


Rising Sun

by galia_carrots



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 14:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16788436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galia_carrots/pseuds/galia_carrots
Summary: Lyanna Stark, She-Wolf of Winterfell, a child-woman of surpassing loveliness. All too often it's forgot that she was but fourteen when she met Prince Rhaegar. She was young, reckless and in love. And the young, the reckless and the in love make mistakes, some more costly then others.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It should be noted this fic is... a little different then the other R/L fics I've seen out there. There are a lot of takes on what happened at the Tower of Joy and if Lyanna consented to this or if she didn't. 
> 
> My general take is pretty simple. She consented to run off with Rhaegar, but it was not informed consent. Though neither of them knew what would happen with the realm at some point Rhaegar did find out and either tried to hide this from her or forbid her from leaving Dorne. So while it may not have started out as a kidnapping I think by the end it was.

_You were the song that I'd always sing_   
_You were the light that the fire would bring_   
_But I can't shake this feeling that I was only_   
_Pushing the spear into your side again_

_-"Passerine" The Oh Hellos_

“Really Howland it’s no trouble, I wasn’t going to let them call you all those things.” Lyanna clicks her tongue, hanging the breast plate back where she’d found it. Her dark hair tumbling back down over her shoulder as she pulled it free from it’s tie.

“I-I know but - but you didn’t have to do that.” The Little crannogman shuffles his feet and steps forward to take the shield from her. “They - we’re tougher than we look in the Neck. I could’ve handled it.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” She insists, allowing him to take the tree painted shield and hang it back in its place. “I’m not going to let anyone insult my bannermen and that’s that.” She turns back to unlace the front of her britches and step out of them “Now will you help me back into that dress? The last thing we need is Father knowing I - Howland?” She hears him drop something and let out a small gasp.. She whirls, reaching instinctively for the sword on the wall.

“Not going to finish the Tourney?” A low smooth voice says, Lyanna’s grip tightens on the sword as it takes her a minute to process the violet eyes in front of her. “A shame,” He says, pushing the blade away from his face. “I was hoping to ride against you.”

“P-prince Rhaegar.” Lyanna says, lowering the sword and curtseying clumsily. “I - what?”

“I’d hoped to ride against you, Knight of the Laughing Tree.” Rhaegar repeats, his violet eyes finally meeting hers. “You’re a Stark aren’t you. Lyanna yes?”

“Yes.” She says. “And I - I had no intention of entering the tourney.”

“But you did.” Rhaegar says. “To defend your bannerman. Howland is it?” He turns to Howland Reed, he nods wordlessly. “A noble cause. Now you mentioned needing help with your dress?”

Lyanna feels her face flush as she realizes that she’s standing in front of the crown Prince wearing nothing but her small clothes. “Yes.” She says, reaching for the soft blue dress that hangs over the chair. “Howland Can - oh” She makes a small squeaking noise as Rhaegar pulls her closer so he can reach the laces himself.

“I have to admit,” He says, pushing Lyanna’s hair over her shoulder and pulling the laces going down her back tight. “I’m much better at taking these off then I am tying them up. But I’ll do my best.”

“Lucky Elia.” She snorts before she can stop herself. “I mean -” Rhaegar gaffauhs, the sound is so unexpected that Lyanna jumps, nearly choking as the laces of the corset tighten in result of her action.

“Oh dear.” Rhaegar chuckles, reaching forward to loosen the laces a bit. “I am sorry, I didn’t intend to startle you. But yes I suppose some might consider Elia lucky enough - though I don’t think it’s got to do with my skills with corsets.”

“I-I didn’t mean to offend you Your -”

“Oh no no,” Rhaegar insists, turning her around and looking her over again. “You didn’t offend me Lyanna. Merely made me laugh. Not many make me laugh.”

“Yes…” She says slowly, studying his face. He’s got a strong jaw, and lines mark his face, though they appear to be frown lines. She’s seen them on her father’s face though he’s older than Rhaegar by a fair bit. His violet eyes are rimmed by the oddest silvery white eyelashes. She’d never seen eyelashes that color. Those violet eyes seem to soften as she looks into them with her own grey ones, as though a shield was slowly being lowered, just for a moment. Then Howland coughs, the shield comes back up and Rhaegar Targaryen lets go of her.

“You’ll be at the feast later?” He asks, taking a step back and putting his hands behind his back.

“Yes.” Lyanna says. “Will you?”

“Yes.” Rhaegar says. “Perhaps we can share a dance?”

“If Robert Baratheon lets me go we will share a dance.” She says, offering a small smile.

“Good.” Rhaegar nods. “Now if you’ll excuse me I do believe it’s my turn to joust. Lyanna, Howland.” He gives them each a nod in turn and then turns on his heel and ducks out of the tent.

“Did Rhaegar Targaryen just ask you to dance?” Howland Reed asks nervously.

“I believe he did.” Lyanna mutters, looking over at the little crannogman next to her. “And I believe I just agreed.

“Where have you been?” Ned mutters as Lyanna makes her way past Brandon and Benjen to take her seat next to him. He looks her up and down briefly, noting her somewhat tousled hair. “And what have you been doing.”

“Looking for a place to relieve myself.” Lyanna lies, pushing a loose curl from her face. “It’s a very long walk back to the castle.”

“Oh,” Ned looks sheepishly back at the tourney field. “Well you missed the best part. A mystery knight came from nowhere and won four jousts. He called himself knight of the laughing tree, but no one can find him for the next round.”

“Did he now?” Lyanna feigned disinterest, finding herself looking across the field to the royal box. The Dornish woman, Elia, is seated with two small children next to Queen Rhaella and her younger son. Elia looks very small in the box, almost seeming to disappear under the furs they’ve bundled her in, though one thin arm wraps around her daughter perched on her knee. The baby, Aegon, Lyanna thinks, must be hidden under the furs, suckling perhaps. Elia doesn’t look like the sort of woman who ought to travel so far, she looked as though a strong wind would blow her away.

The girl, Rhaenys?, looks not the least bit Targaryen, though from the great distance Lyanna cannot see what color her eyes are. She’s talking to the younger Prince (Viserys? Visenya?) and watching the field below.

“How old is Elia?” She finds herself asking, turning to her brother Ned, but he’s not looking at the tourney anymore either. He’s looking up at the royal box too, behind Elia at one of her ladies. “That’s Ashara Dayne.”

“Huh?” Ned mutters, jerking back so suddenly he spills the cup of ale he’s holding. His face flushes. “Is it?”

“Yes.” Lyanna says. “Arthur Dayne’s younger sister. Did you hear my question?”

“No.” Ned mutters, hastily sopping up the ale with a bit of his cloak. “What was it?”

“How old is Elia? She looks older than the Prince.” Lyanna asks.

“Um,” Ned thinks for a moment as he puts the now empty ale horn on the tray of a passing servant. “I think she’s 4 and twenty.”

“She’s only ten years older then me?” Lyanna frowns. “But she looks -

“Shh, Lyanna.” Ned hisses. “Quiet, you’re drawing attention. I know how she looks but she’s just had a baby.”

“Then why did she come?” Lyanna wonders.

“No idea.” Ned’s voice is still but a low whisper. “I just know she’s always been sickly and that she nearly died in childbed.”

“She did?” Lyanna pales, her own bloods were hard enough and after the death that had become her mother when she was eight she dreaded the idea of the childbed. “That’s awful. I hope - well I hope she’s strong enough to be here.”

“Must be.” Ned shrugs. “She wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t right?”

Somehow Lyanna didn’t think that would be the case. With all the talk the Targaryens generated around the kingdom if even half of it were true she could see Aerys forcing Elia to go with them. Though Aerys himself stayed holed up in the keep these days. Still he’d made his wife and young son go as well, or perhaps they’d gone to escape him.

“Lya,” Ned nudges her, pulling her from her thoughts. She looks over to him and frowns for a moment before noticing Robert.

“Oh, hi Robert.” She mutters. “I didn’t notice you’d returned.” She attempts to keep the lack of enthusiasm out of her voice, she moves over on the bench to make room for him.

“Lyanna.” Robert grins pressing a kiss to her cheek and pushing a cup of wine into her hand.

“Thanks.” She mutters. She hadn’t asked for the wine, not that it mattered. Robert was going to drink anyway and he never liked to drink alone. She knew all too well that it was best to pour the wine out when he was distracted, the last time she’d gotten slightly drunk around him she wound up with his hand up her skirt and halfway to her cunt before Ned stopped him.

“Look,” Ned says excitedly. “Since they can’t find that other knight Ser Barristan Selmy gets to move on.”

“He’s the best Knight in the Kingsguard.” Benjen cuts in.

“Yeah,” Ned says dismissively turning to Robert. Lyanna watches her younger brother’s face fall as his older brother ignores him. She motions him over and he slides back off the bench and hurries around to sit next to her.

“I bet he can beat Rhaegar.” Ben says excitedly. “Can I have that?” He points to the wine glass. Lyanna almost laughs, her younger brother isn’t even eleven yet.

“Sure.” She says. “But drink it slowly and don’t tell father I gave it to you. If he asks -”

“Say it was Robert.” Ben grins taking the cup from her hands.

“Exactly.” Lyanna giggles, watching as he takes a sip and makes a face. “Not your taste?”

“I’ll drink it.” He says hurriedly. “But it tastes worse then I thought it would.”

“Wine usually -” She’s cut off by a roar from the crowd and drawn back to the tourney below. Both men are on the opposite end of the field from which they’d started, both are still astride their horses. Each is handed another lance and they ride for one another again, hard.

It’s over almost before it starts. Rhaegar’s lance catches Ser Barristan in the chest and knocks him flat onto the ground. Lyanna’s breath catches.

“He’s won.” She says, turning to Benjen whose eyes are wide as he watches two squires help Ser Barristan up. “Prince Rhaegar won.” 

The crowd is still roaring as Rhaegar is handed the crown of pale blue roses, the crown for the Queen of Love and Beauty. Lyanna had picked those roses herself, when her father explained that Winterfell had been given the honor of bringing the flowers for the tourney. The crowd is still roaring as Prince Rhaegar rides towards the royal box, Elia seems to sit up slightly, but a hush falls over the crowd as he passes her, makes a loop around the dividing fence and approaches their box.

“What in the seven hells is he doing?” Ben asks, she shushes him and pushes at the wine in his hand, hoping it will keep him quiet.

Rhaegar comes to a stop in front of their box, takes off his dragon helm and lets his long silvery hair tumble down along his shoulders. He nods once to her father and then holds the crown up to her.

“I crown you, Lyanna Stark, the Queen of Love and Beauty.” His voice is low but loud, and every bit as beautiful as he is.

Next to her, Robert is fuming.

“What the hell was that!” Brandon shouts, knocking over a tray of tea, sending the plate - and the servant clattering to the floor.

“Brandon stop that!” Rickard shouts, helping the servant to the floor and ushering her out the door turning to his son and grabbing him tightly by the arm. “I agree with you that was - that was something none of us expected.”

“I’ll say.” Robert grumbles, his hand is still clutching Lyanna’s arm tightly, she twists it, trying to pull free but his grip only rightens.

“Let go of me!” She snaps. “You’re hurting me!”

He lets go of her arm and she moves to the other side of the room, the crown of blue roses still clutched in her hand. She places it on the mantle and looks over at her brothers and father. They’re all staring at her, almost accusingly.

“What?” Her face contorts into a scowl. “You can’t honestly believe I had anything to do with this! I-I’ve never even _spoken_ to Rhaegar Targaryen how was I supposed to know that he’d - he’d do this.”

“You were gone for a very long time.” Ned says quietly from his perch on the window sill. “I mean, longer than usual for relieving yourself.”

“Oh and what’s it to you how long it takes me to relieve myself?!” Lyanna snaps, whirling on her older brother. “Would you like me to tell you about my moons blood Eddard? I will if that’s what you so desire!”

She draws a sort of pleasure from the color red that her brother’s face turns when she says that. She draws even more pleasure from the color Robert’s turns.

“N-No.” He mutters. “S-sorry Lyanna I didn’t - I didn’t know.”

“No I’m sure you didn’t.” She rolls her eyes.

“Children.” Rickard says, looking back at them from the other window. “You all need to stop this. This - this may be no one’s fault. Either way we ought to be cautious about how we proceed. We’ve gotten the attention of the royal family and the rest of the guests by now. Even if we didn’t intend to.”

“Maybe Lyanna should stay here.” Ned says. “During the feast tonight.”

“No!” Lyanna snaps. “You will not - you will not lock me up like some dog.”

“You’re not a dog it’s for your own safety and the safety of everyone else in this family.” Ned snaps.

“I agree with Ned.” Brandon interjects. “You should stay here.”

“No, no,” Rickard says, raising his voice this time. All of the Stark children look at him and even Robert, who’d been moving across the Room towards Lyanna again stops in his tracks. “Lyanna, you do not have to stay home from the feast but you are going to have to stay with Robert.”

“Father I -” But Lyanna can see it will be no use, she lets out a soft sigh and scowls. “Fine.”

“And Robert,” Father turns to the tall dark haired man. “I expect you to keep an eye on her, keep my daughter safe you understand me.”

“Yes Lord Stark.” Robert says. “I will do all I can to protect your daughter.”

“I don’t need protection.” Lyanna protests. “I’m fine on my own.”

“Yes you do,” Her father turns to her. “I don’t care if you need the protection or not, for the safety of the family you’ll stay with Robert or you’ll stay here. Am I understood.”

A scowl paints her face, but all the same she says “Yes father.”

“Good, now boys go you all need to get changed. Lyanna a word.” Her father waited until her brothers and Robert had filed out before approaching her and grabbing her arms to make her look at him.”

“Father - that hurts.” She whines, trying to pull her arms free, only to have his grip tighten.

“Lyanna I need you to swear to me you did nothing to bring this on.” Her father’s voice is low and grave. A pit of worry settles in Lyanna’s stomach as she looks into her eyes.

“I-I didn’t.” She whispers. Maybe it’s a lie, maybe the few words exchanged with Rhaegar in that tent had been enough to lead him on. Then again, maybe it’s not. She’d spoken to plenty of men before and none of them had ever passed their wives to crown her the queen of love and beauty. Her father eases his grip on her and steps back, looking her over.

“Stay with Robert.” With that he turns sharply on his heel and walks out of the bedchamber.

It’s only then that Lyanna realizes the crown of winter roses has slipped from her hand and is lying at her feet. She picks it up, looks at it and in a moment of childish thought, puts it on her head.

“Robert.” Lyanna hisses. “Hands.” She pushes his hand back onto her hip and glowers at him. It’s only the second dance of the evening and she’s already had to remove his hands from her rear twice.

“Sorry Lyanna.” He doesn’t sound the least bit sorry and as the music comes to an end, Lyanna curtsies respectfully and starts to move back to the table, but he grabs her arm. “Don’t you want to dance this one. This one’s your favorite.”

“I don’t want to dance anymore.” She says curtly, though music is her favorite northern dance, one of the more lively numbers with twisting and twirling. She’s quite sure Robert can’t dance this one anyway and even if he can she’s quite sick of him touching her already. “You can keep dancing if you should so desire.”

“No, I told your father I’d stay with you.” Robert insists, following her back toward the long table, and handing her a cup of wine from the tray of the passing servant. For once she takes it gratefully and takes a long drink.

“I’ll be fine here.” Lyanna insists.

“You sure? Because I could use the privy…” The way he’s looking down the front of her dress makes her think it’s not the privy he needs so much as ten minutes alone with his own hand.

“Go.” She insists. “I’ll be right here.” She rolls her eyes taking another sip of wine. As he’s leaving the serving girl passes her again, nearly knocking into her this time, and pressing something into her free hand as she does. “I - excuse me.”

The girl either doesn’t hear her or pretends not to, she continues on her way refilling goblets of wine and answering calls for more as she does. Lyanna looks down at the bit of paper that had been pressed in her hand.

_Meet me in the gardens in an hour_

_-Rhaegar_

Her heart flutters a little at first and then sinks into her stomach. Oh this is not good, but as she looks over to where Prince Rhaegar is seated, her heart leaps into her throat again. He’s looking right at her and he’s got that glint in his eyes, the same one he’d had when he handed her the crown at the tourney.

“Fuck what father says.” She mutters, tucking the note into the bodice of her dress and offering a smile in Rhaegar’s direction. “All I have to do is get Robert good and drunk.”

That proves easier then even she’d anticipated. Two more cups of wine and he was drunk enough to start dancing with other people, three more and she’d had to remove his hand from her breast, half way through the fourth she’d been able to find a serving girl that looked enough like her to get him to move on.

She slipped out of the room into the cool night air. It was warmer here then in Winterfell, but still Lyanna can’t help but shiver as some of the snow starts to settle into her hair. It’s cold enough to snow, there’s no way this can _really_ be spring. She’s looking up and the half moon and the stars, her breath making little puffs in the air.

“It’s almost as beautiful as you.” The smooth voice of Rhaegar Targaryen says.

“I-I thought we were meeting in the garden.” Lyanna says, a blush rising in her cheeks as she turns to see Rhaegar.

“Well I saw you slip from the hall, so I thought i’d be the prince and escort you.” He smiles, offering his arm out to her for her to take. She entwines it with his and smiles.

“Ever the gentleman.”

The two of them start towards the gardens. The castle hasn’t been occupied very long and they’re still small, but large enough to be lost in and it’s not long before the two of them are perched on a stone bench next to a rose bush. The bush had fallen for the spell of the false spring, it was adorned with beautiful red roses that had begun to freeze in the cold night air.

“They’re quite beautiful don’t you think?” Rhaegar muses. “Though not as beautiful as the crown of Love and Beauty.”

“They are.” Lyanna agrees. “I-I’m sorry i couldn’t wear the crown, my father was so angry… well I thought he’d hit someone. I just didn’t want to anger him.”

“Shh, shh,” Rhaegar presses a finger to her lips. “It’s alright. I understand. I too angered my family. You’ll notice Elia was not at the feast.”

“I-I assumed she was just ill.” Lyanna admits. “She didn’t look well at the tourney.”

“She hasn’t been well the entire time I’ve known her.” He says curtly. “But I don’t want to talk about Elia. I want to talk about you.”

“Me?” Lyanna feels a flush creeping up her face and she looks back at her lap.

“Yes, you.” Rhaegar murmurs, placing a finger under her chin and turning her face towards his. His purple eyes shon, and his silver hair seemed to be made of moonlight. “That man you were dancing with. Who is he?”

“Oh,” Lyanna says. “That’s just Robert… I-I’m supposed to marry him on my sixteenth name day.”

“Supposed to?” Rhaegar frowns. “Well that doesn’t sound much like a blushing bride to be.”

“I’m not a blushing bride to be.” Lyanna mutters.

“You don’t want to marry him.”

“I-it’s not - well it is him.” She admits. “I- he’s got a bit of a reputation… I fear by the time we’re wed he’ll have a bastard or two.”

“Many men have bastards.” Rhaegar shrugs.

“Do you?”

“No.”

“So you’ve stuck to Elia’s bed since you married her?”

“You don’t sound like you believe me.”

“I don’t.”

“Why not.”

“Men never stick to one bed.”

“I did.”

Lyanna frowns at him. “And yet you’re here with me.”

“I’m not in your bed am I?” Rhaegar says, reaching out and taking her hand.

“No.” She admits, allowing him to move her hand to his lips and kiss it lightly.

“As for Elia… unfortunately she’s been quite ill since the birth of our son.” Rhaegar sighs.

“Then why did you bring her here?” Lyanna asks.

“It was that or leave her with my father.” Rhaegar says. “And they all call him the mad king. Don’t deny it, I know they do.”

“They do.” Lyanna admits. “I wouldn’t want to leave my wife and children there either. But… why are you here with me? If you’ve never been to another woman's bed.”

“Never before now.” Rhaegar muses.

“You’re considering it?” Lyanna says with a cold laugh. “Well I don’t intend to let you.”

“Considering it.” He muses. “But I prefer to ah, romance, a woman first.”

“Do you?” Lyanna says, raising her eyebrows and studying the frown lines on his face.

“I do.” Rhaegar says. “And I should very much like to Romance you Lyanna Stark.”

“And how would you plan to do that?” Lyanna asks, letting him press a kiss to her cheek.

“By writing you. Every week. At Winterfell.” Rhaegar breathes, pulling her very close, his chest against hers.

“I-I should like that, very much.” She mutters, leaning up to his face slightly, he reaches to her cheek again. He pulls her face to his and presses a kiss to her lips.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am actually fairly sick at the moment so I'll hunt down the quote I picked out for the beginning of this chapter later and add it in.

On the ride up the kings road no one said a word about Rhaegar Targaryen or what had happened at the feast. Not even when Ned and Robert broke off from their group with Jon Arryn to turn back to the Eyrie. Robert took her aside, promised to write and gave her kiss - a kiss she thought on the entire way through the Neck and up to Winterfell. 

His lips were so different than Rhaegar's. Rhaegar’s kiss had been soft, clean shaven and loving - almost innocent had she not known who he was and what they were doing. Robert’s was rough and his dark beard scratched against her chin. His was long and lingering, and seemed to lack the innocence and love that Rhaegar’s did. 

She was still thinking on this kiss when she was putting her grey mare back in the stables the day after their return. She was running the rough brush over her skin when someone behind her cleared their throat. She turned to find Maester Lewin looking at her. 

“Oh,” She says. “Maester Lewin, I didn’t see you there.” She brushes her long hair back and crosses under the mare’s neck to brush the other side. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yes,” He says slowly, pulling a letter from his sleeve. “This came for you this morning. It’s um - it’s from quite far away.” 

Lyanna blinks at the letter in surprise and takes it from the Maester, the seal is unbroken, it’s red and black, the three headed Targaryen dragon pressed into it. “D-did you read it?” 

“No,” Maester Lewin says. “But I do warn you that I don’t think you should be writing this person. Whoever they are I think it’s in your best interest to ignore it.” 

“Very well.” Lyanna says, tucking the letter into her bodice for later. “I won’t respond, thank you for letting me know and - adn in light of what happened at the tourney could you keep this from father?” 

“I will.” Lewin nods. “I see no reason to worry your father if you don’t intend to respond to the letter.” 

“Thank you.” Lyanna says, returning to the brushing of her horse. Her heart is almost in her throat thinking about the letter, but she forces herself to wait until Maester Lewin has gone and her horse is safely put away before she makes quickly for her rooms - Ignoring Benjen’s call for her to come spar with him. 

Once she’s safely in her room with the door locked she removed the letter from her bodice and begins to read. 

_ My Dearest Lyanna,  _

_ I hope the journey North treated you well, I understand that it takes as long to reach winterfell from Harrenhal as it does to reach Dorne from Harrenhal. I admit it is truly hard to believe that any one part of the Seven Kingdoms could be so large. Though I’ve also heard the North is very beautiful, though it pales in comparison to you.  _

_ I should hope this letter finds you easily and isn’t intercepted by my father or yours. He didn’t seem very happy with my crowning you the Queen of Love and Beauty, though surely anyone else would’ve been little more then a mummers farce. Elia has taken to her sick bed again and I must admit I find the days very lonely with no one to speak to. I hope you’ll answer this letter soon and provide me with some company  _

_ \- Your Most Loving Prince Rhaegar Targaryen ‘ _

Lyanna reads the letter over twice, sinking down on to her bed as she does.  _ Your Most Loving Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.  _ Her most loving prince. That line makes her heart flutter a little. 

She launches herself off the bed and over to the writing desk , nearly knocking over the chamber pot in her haste. She reaches for the thick paper and her ink and sets to writing immediately 

_ My Dearest Prince Rhaegar Targaryen,  _

_ I so loved receiving your letter this morning, though I feel I should warn you not to use your own seal on it. Our Maester was kind enough to keep this one a secret from my father on the condition I didn’t answer it. I think it would be best if you’d use the seal of House Baratheon as no one would suspect if Robert was writing me.  _

_Robert is my betrothed, we’re supposed to wed a moon's turn after my sixteenth name day, but it’s not a day I look forward to. He and my brother are fostered at the Eyrie so you may want to space your letters out to make it seems as though the Raven has to travel down the mountains. My brother Eddard likely won’t suspect much as Robert_ _does write to me, I’m just not in the habit of answering._

_ The ride North was long but uneventful. Ben and I saw a lizard lion in the neck, if you ever come to the North be careful to stay on the Kings Road while passing through the Neck. They’ve been known to take down horses before according to Howland.  _

_ I’m sorry to hear of Elia’s illness, my own mother died in childbed when I was eight so I hope for your children’s sake Elia recovers. It’s hard on a girl not to have her mother. I practically raised my younger brother after that, he was only two at the time and it was very hard on Father. I’ll pray to the old gods for Elia, we don’t have a sept here or I’d try to pray to the new ones as well.  _

_ I hope my letters can bring you some comfort my dearest Rhaegar. I don’t like to think of you so sad and alone there. You’re too beautiful to be sad.  _

_ -Your loving Lyanna.  _

With that Lyanna folded up the parchment and dribbled some of the white sealing wax over it, pressing the direwolf of stark into it as it cooled. She’ll have to wait until tonight to mail the letter so for now she tucks it into the pocket of her dress and makes her way into the yard. 

She expects to find Benjen sparing with one of the other boys but the training yard is empty. She trots up to Ser Rodrik where he’s putting up the armor for the day. 

“Where’s Benjen?” Lyanna asks. 

“If I had to guess, trying to convince the cooking boy to give him a lemon cake.” Ser Roderick says, looking over his shoulder. “If not check the gods wood, isn’t that where the two of you sneak off to do your sparing?” 

Lyanna’s face turns red. “Don’t tell father.” 

“It’s been six years and I haven’t told your father I’m not going to now.” Ser Roderick mutters. 

“Thank you.” She grins. It had been eight years, but Ser Roderick didn’t need to know that. She turns and starts off towards the kitchens thinking she’ll ask Ben to spar with her in the Godswood. She spots him, standing next to the open doors of the kitchen and talking to a boy a little older than him, maybe thirteen. She’s about to call out to him when she notices how red Ben’s face is, and she stops a few feet away. 

They exchange a few more words and the older boy presses something into her brother’s hands and bends down to him. She can’t see what they’re doing but after a few moments Benjen turns around, very red in the face. Lyanna steps around the corner then and he half jumps out of his skin. 

“Ly-lyanna.” He says. “I-I didn’t -” 

“What are you doing?” Lyanna frowns 

“Oh um,” He looks down at the lemon cake in his hand. “I was um… well the cooks boy gave it to me. He said it was alright.” 

“Oh.” Lyanna shrugs. “Alright then. Want to go spar in the godswood?”

“I-I guess.” Ben says give her a twitching smile. “Let me finish my lemon cake. I’ll meet you there with the practice swords.” 

“Okay,” Lyanna frowns, watching Ben shuffle off. Something had to be going on with him, that she was sure of, she just couldn’t decide what. 

Whatever had been going on with Ben - and any concern it gave her quickly left by the evening. Before going to bed she slipped up to the Rookery to send her letter. Maester Lewin had already gone to bed and she was able to tie her letter to the leg of one of the Ravens and get it sent on her way. 

She quickly developed a habit of checking the Rookery for letters before breakfast and dinner every day and it didn’t take long for BRandon to notice. 

“What are you so eager to receive little sister?” He smirked, coming around the corner and causing her to jump and nearly fall down the stairs. 

“Brandon!” She snaps, feeling his hand on her arm to catch her as she starts to trip. 

“Sorry little sister.” He says, pushing her onto her feet.   
“What on Earth are you doing?” She pulls her arm free and leans against the wall. 

“Well my little sister has been spending an awful lot of time in the Rookery of late.” Brandon grins. “And well, I know what that’s like.” 

“Oh unlike  _ you  _ I don’t spend all day hoping for some word from my betrothed so I can imagine them in my bed.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Well,” Brandon grins, leaning against the wall. “You might not but I certainly do. Have you seen Catelyn Tully? All that lovely hair - well if you were a man dear sister you’d understand. Alas women are so much more romantic.” 

“I am  _ not  _ romantic.” She snaps. “And I’m not waiting for anyone. I simply sent a letter and am awaiting a reply.” 

“Ah,” Brandon rolls his eyes. “Well excuse me. You just go up to the Rookery twice every day like a girl in love.” 

“I am not - oh you take that back Brandon!” She stamps her foot irritably. 

“Well I would, except it seems to be true.” He rolls his eyes. “It would seem that kiss inflamed more than just your face little sister.” 

“What kiss?” She snaps, the shock evident on her face. She had been so sure she and Rhaegar were alone in the garden. She hadn’t noticed Brandon, she’d assumed he was in the great hall with a hand up Catelyn Tully’s skirt. Or teasing Ned about how he ogled Ashara Dayne, or maybe even antagonizing Benjen into asking a girl to dance. She had never thought he’d seen the kiss. 

“Oh come on Little sister.” He rolls his eyes, she can tell from the look in them that he’s enjoying this, he enjoys watching her squirm. “Everyone saw it.” 

“Wh-what do you mean everyone?!” She half screams, the panic growing evident in her face. “W-we were alone.” 

“Oh please.” Brandon rolls his eyes. “You were not alone, all you did was move ten feet from the side of the Kings Road.” 

“Kinds Road?” She frowns for a moment, and relief fills her. “O-oh yes um, Robert right.” 

“Of course Robert. Who else would I have meant?” It’s Brandon’s turn to look confused now. “You seemed so revoled by him at the feast but I dare say your first kiss changed something in you sister.” 

“Right.” She nods. Her first Kiss. Robert had been the second technically, Rhaegar the first, but no one needed to know that. Someday she’d end up in Robert’s bed not Rhaegar's and then she supposed it wouldn’t matter. 

“You look… well flushed dear sister.” Her brother frowns. 

“Well.” She mutters. “You are talking to me about my private business between me and my betrothed. You don’t see me going on about you trying to get Catelyn Tully to lift her skirts for you.” 

“Dear sister, you offend me.” He insists. 

“Oh come on.” She says. “I know you aren’t offended, I also know you’ve had half the serving girls in Winterfell.” 

“Well maybe not half.” Brandon shrugs. “A quarter perhaps. But not half. I do have some standards at least.” 

“Oh please.” She rolls her eyes, picking up her skirts and starting down the stairs again. “You barely half standards. All that’s necessary are tits and a heartbeat.” 

“You offend me sister.” Brandon calls after her, but she ignores him and makes her way to her room to change so she can meet Benjen in the godswood. 

The next letter from Rhaegar doesn’t arrive until nearly a fortnight later, just when Lyanna had started to give up on him writing again. When she gets the letter one of the servants says it’s from Robert, and she almost doesn’t read it, until she notes the handwriting. It’s clean, beautiful and almost romantic. This definitely isn’t from Robert. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. I had a really busy weekend with work and I was way too drained to edit and post until today.

The next letter from Rhaegar is so long in coming Lyanna has begun to think she’s put him off. Not that it wasn’t to be expected. He was a prince, he’d sit on the throne someday, and she was a silly little girl who hadn’t yet had her fifteenth name day. He’d probably rolled his eyes, burned the letter and not thought twice about it. Yet just when she started giving up hope one of the servants brought her a letter as she was breaking her fast. 

“M-may I be excused?” She stands up, pushing her chair out from under her. Her hand shaking as she clutches the letter. 

“You’ve hardly eaten.” Father says, looking at the still full bowl of porridge. 

“I’m not hungry.” She lies. 

“Do you need the maester?” Father asks. 

“N-no.” She insists. “It’s um -” She can only think of one thing to tell them so they’ll let her go without asking. “It’s my moon -”

Her father raises his hand before she can get the rest of the words out. “Go, get back in bed if you must I don’t want to see you running around in an hour with Benjen” 

“Yes father.” She nods, scurrying from the room as quickly as her feet can carry her. She ought to feel bad about lying to her father but she can’t tell him the truth about this sort of thing. Not only would he be angry with her for lying to him about who she was writing to, but he’d panic over the fact that his daughter admitted to loving a Targaryen. Even if it  _ was  _ Robert she was writing he’d say this was wholly inappropriate for the two of them to be discussing.

She moves up the steps as quickly as she dares, the letter clutched firmly in her hand, her heart pounding in her throat. As soon as the bedroom door is shut behind her she tears at the sealing wax frantically. She rushes over to the bed, half falling on it as she reads. 

_ My Darling Dearest Lyanna,  _

_ I am sorry for the delay in getting this letter to you, I had to spend some time thinking on what you’d written. I had to decide if it was better to tell you the truth or to continue living a lie. I have decided that it is better to go for the truth, in the small chance it brings us some happiness, and mayhaps it will even liberate you from your current situation.  _

_ Lyanna Stark I am in love with you, and I shall be King someday. And the King can love whomever he wishes. Furthermore I wish to marry you and take you as my Queen.  _

_ -Your Most Loving King Rhaegar  _

Lyanna can hear her heart beating in her ears and she sets the letter down. How is she supposed to respond to that? Rhaegar has a wife, he has Elia and their children. And yet, yet he loves her. 

“He loves me.” She whispers to herself. 

“I’m sorry ma’am?” The voice almost causes Lyanna to leap from her skin. 

“O-oh gods.” She puts a hand over her heart turning to see Ila standing with the copper tub in the doorway. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there. No um it’s fine. What’s the tub for?” 

“Yer father said you were havin’ your moons blood.” Ila says sheepishly. “Said that you might like a bath…” 

“Oh, um, thank you Ila, yes that would be lovely.” Lyanna nods. 

“Yes ma’am.” Ila nods. “Ya know it’s funny I could’ve sworn you had yer blood last week.”   
“W-well it’s here again any how.” Lyanna says stiffly. “J-just go get the water please.” 

“Aye Ma’am.” Ila scurries from the room. 

Lyanna sinks into the steaming bath and dismisses the servants. She needs to think not be scrubbed, besides she’s adept enough at washing her own hair. She leans against the back of the tub and closes her eyes. Oh what to do. What to do. 

She’d never pictured herself anyone's wife before now, but as the steam swirled around her she began to imagine what it would feel like to have her belly swell with Rhaegar’s child. To have their son at her breast, their daughter playing at her feet, and with a blush she began to picture the more intimate sides of marriage. She’s beginning to move her hand through the water and towards the nest of hair between her legs when a shuffling of the curtains yanks her from her thoughts. 

Red face and sweating she sits up in the water. “Who’s there?” 

“I-it’s me.” Benjen mutters, pushing the curtains open and climbing in through the window. 

“Benjen!” Lyanna snaps, sinking lower in the water. “How long have you been there you creep!”

“N-Not long.” Benjen whimpers, shuffling his feet. “I-I just - well father said you weren’t feeling well and I wasn’t to come up in see you, but I missed you so I…” 

“So you climbed up the side of the tower into my room?” Lyanna frowns. 

“Well… yeah.” Ben mutters, pushing some dark hair out of his face, looking down his long curved nose to the floor in shame. Her heart softens, he had their father’s nose, but their mother’s eyes. 

“Oh come here.” She sighs. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah.” He says, trotting forward to the edge of the tub, his sad grey eyes meeting hers. “I’m just worried about you.” 

“Why are you worried about me?” She asks, pointing to the soft stool near the bed. “Pull that over and sit down.” 

Ben does as he’s told and hops up on the stool as Lyanna sits back against the copper tub. “Well, first father said you were sick, an-and you’ve been acting all funny lately. Like you have a secret.” 

“Oh Ben.” She gives him a wry smile. He produces a lemon cake out of his pocket and starts chewing it thoughtfully. “If I told you my secret it wouldn’t be a secret anymore would it?” 

“No I guess not.” Ben sighs, taking another bite. He’s silent for a long while, then he wipes his hands on his pants and says. “How about if I tell you my secret? If I tell you my secret will you share yours?” 

“Well,” Lyanna sighs. Knowing Ben his secret is likely about how many Lemon cakes he sneaks from the kitchen, but if that’s the case she’ll just make something up. “Alright. What’s your secret.” 

“I don’t like Lemon cakes.” He announces. 

“What?” Lyanna half laughs. “Ben that’s absurd, you love Lemon cakes, you’re always convincing the baking boy to give them to you.” 

“I don’t like them.” He insists, she thinks she can see some pink creeping up his cheeks. “I-I don’t go to the kitchens for the lemon cakes.” 

“Then what do you go there for?” She rolls her eyes playing along with her little brother’s game. 

“I go there for the baking boy.” He says. 

“You - what?” Lyanna’s confused now. What does the baking boy have to do with any of this?

“The baking boy. The one who makes the lemon cakes, with the red hair and the soft lips.” He mutters, looking down at his lap. “I don’t like lemon cakes, but-but I like him.” 

“Oh Ben.” She says, the weight of what he’s just told her weighing on her heart. “You - you know you can’t tell anyone else that right?” 

“I know.” He says sadly. “But I trust you. You’re my big sister. You’d keep my secret, like I’ll keep yours.” 

Well now she didn’t have much choice but to tell him, he’d told her a secret that could get him killed in most of Westeros, how was she supposed to justify lying to him? 

“You know those letters I’ve been getting?” She says, reaching out to take his hand and running her thumb over the back of it. 

“Yeah.” Ben mutters. “The ones from Robert.” 

“They’re not from Robert.” she admits, pushing a loose curl out of her face and continuing to run her thumb over Ben’s hand. “They’re from Prince Rhaegar.” 

“P-prince Rhaegar?” Ben’s eyes widened. “I thought - well father ordered you not to speak to him.”

“I know what father said.” She sighs. “But I-I love him Benjen, and when you love someone, well you’ll do things like eat sweets you don’t even like or disobey your father to be with them.” 

“Oh.” Ben mutters. “An-and are you going to? To be with him I mean?” 

“I-I don’t know.” She admits. “I got a letter from him this morning, and he said he loved me, and that he wants to marry me.” 

“Oh Lyanna…” Ben breathes. “Th-that’s - but he - he’s married…” 

“I know.” Lyanna sighs. “I don’t know what to do Ben.” She lets go of his hand and sinks down into the water a bit farther. 

“Well…” He sighs. “What do you want?” 

“Does that matter?” 

“It always matters Lya.” He uses the nickname he’s had for her since he was still sucking on his fingers to fall asleep. “T-targaryens have had two wives in the past…” 

“I don’t - I don’t want to be a second wife.” She sighs. “That’s no better than a common whore.” 

“Then tell him that.” Ben shrugs. “If he loves you he’ll annul his marriage to Elia if not then - then you’ll know he just wants into your bed and up your skirts.” 

“Benjen Stark!” She snaps. “Where on earth did you learn such a thing!” 

“Well I -I um…” He’s turning red before her and he hops off his stool. “I-I’m not a baby Lya.” 

“You’re not a man either.” She says. “Now who’s been telling you these things.” 

“Well I’m not a baby… I’m nearly eleven.” He frowns. “Brandon told me. I-I caught him up a serving girls skirt last week.” 

“Of course he did.” She rolls her eyes. “Well you keep those things to yourself Benjen, alright?” 

“Sorry.” He mutters his cheeks still pink. 

“Now bring me that robe alright?” SHe points to the one draped over the chair. “And that towel.” Benjen does as she asks and Lyanna steps from the bath, drying herself, and pulling the robe on. “You can go down the stairs, I doubt anyone is going to care since you were already in here okay.” 

“...Okay” Ben mutters, shifting from foot to foot for a moment. 

“You need something?” She asks, taking the towel to her hair and raising an eyebrow at him. He chews his bottom lip and says. 

“It’s bad isn’t it?” His voice is low, grave, and somehow so much older then ten. 

“What’s bad?” She asks quietly, crossing the room to take his hand again. 

“Me loving other boys.” He says, turning his big grey eyes up at her. 

“Oh Ben,” She sighs, wrapping him tightly in her arms. She’d half raised him after their mother died. He’d only been two and in many ways Lyanna was much closer to him then any of her other brothers. “I-It’s - I don’t want to scare you, but I must also be honest.” She runs her hand over his hair soothingly. “It’s not something you ought to say to anyone but me, and mayhaps, someday you’ll find a boy to love you back, but I think you ought to keep quiet about it alright?” 

“I will.” He mutters. “Would - would Brandon be angry at me?” 

“I… I don’t know.” She admits. “But I don’t think you should tell him, or father, or even Ned really. Though I think Ned would be the most… kind about it of the three. I don’t think it’s anything they’ll understand. I’m sorry you have to have such a burden so young.” 

“I’ll be alright.” Ben insists, wriggling free of her arms. “I-I’ve been carrying this one longer then you’d know. I’ll be fine.” 

“I’m sure you will.” She says, bending to kiss him on the cheek. “Now you should go before the Maester realizes you’re late for your history lesson.” 

“Thank you Lyanna.” Ben makes for the door, pausing before he opens it. “I hope everything works out, you know, with Rhaegar.” 

“Thank you Ben.” She smiles. “Now go, I’ve got a letter to write.” And with that he opened the door and started down the stairs, from the sound of it taking them two at a time. 

Lyanna wraps her damp hair in a towel to keep it from dripping on to the parchment she’s writing on and sits down to get to work. 

_ My Dearest Rhaegar _

_ I was so glad to hear from you, I confess I worried you’d think me a silly little girl and decide I wasn’t worth your time. Thank you for giving me the truth of the matter and bearing your heart to me. I’ll cherish the gift of your trust.  _

_ However that does not mean I will be your Queen. You already have a wife, and while you wouldn’t be the first Targaryen to have two wives the Starks do not partake in polygamy. I fear I cannot be a second wife, I would be out of place and would not want to make Elia uncomfortable. I do wish to keep corresponding with you as perhaps you may figure something out that will allow us both to have the fate we want.  _

_ Your Loving Lyanna _

She signed the letter with a flourish and stamped the wax seal of House Stark on to the outside of it. As she climbed the steps to the rookery her heart was pounding, what would Rhaegar think? Would he be furious she refused him? Or would he put Elia aside for her? 

No, no he wouldn’t do that. THat had been some silly suggestion of her brothers. He would never put aside his true wife for Lyanna, no matter how beautiful he thought her. 

As she released the raven out the window, it’s letter in tow, she could not help but wonder if she’d ever get a reply. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so sorry this took so long I was busy what with the holidays and all. 
> 
> I have gotten a comment stating that it's awful for Benjen and Lyanna to ask Rhaegar to leave Elia and break up a marriage and I'm going to address that here in the hope that more people will read it. Lyanna is 14 at the start of this fic, and Benjen is 10. They're children, and children make rash decisions without thinking of the consequences. 
> 
> And anyone who says Lyanna is not a child, well GRRM says it himself when he describes her in A Game of Thrones "Lyanna had been only sixteen,she was a child-woman of surpassing loveliness" Now it's important to note that Lyanna was sixteen when she DIED, not when she met Rhaegar and fell in love with him. She would've been much younger when that happened, hence being 14 at the start of this story and by the end she'll be 16.

_ My Most Noble Lyanna _

_ I understand entirely that you have no desire to be a second wife, it’s not an easy position even for born Targaryens. However what if I were to propose something… different. There has been no love between Elia and I, not at the beginning of our marriage and certainly not now. I do my duty to her as a husband but that is the most I will do. What if I were to annul the marriage? Surely then you could not refuse? You would be my one true wife and my most honorable Queen.  _

_ Would this be an adequate solution? Please write back as soon as you can with an answer, I hold my breath waiting for your letters as they are the only light in my life.  _

_ Your Most Loving Prince Rhaegar _

Lyanna read the letter once, and then twice before she’s able to comprehend what he’s saying. He’s saying he’d put his wife of more than a decade aside to wed her. That he loves her, and wants to be with her. Lyanna’s glad to have read the letter in the privacy of her own room because she doesn’t have time for courtesy's, she has to write back just this moment. 

She pushes aside the pile of papers she’d been using to draw on and pulls a fresh sheet over to her. In her haste to get the ink out she manages to leave a large blot on the corner of the page, but it doesn’t matter. Her hand is shaking slightly as she begins to write but soon she finds her stride. 

_ My Prince Rhaegar _

_ I hope you can understand I would need you to write to my father about breaking my betrothal to Robert Baratheon. But if you can get him to agree and you truly wish to annul your marriage to Elia then how could I refuse? I love you so much my heart aches at the very thought of us having to be apart a moment longer. I urge you to write to him as soon as you can so that we might be wed at the soonest possible time.  _

_ My heart is so lonely here. The only one I’ve told of our correspondence is my younger brother Benjen, but he understands the sensitivity of the situation and won’t tell anyone. He thinks it’s rather sweet that you love me so. He says it’s like a song and I think he’s right, we are like a song. _

_ Your Loving Wife to Be, Lyanna _

She almost flies to the rookery and she wakes the ravens with such haste they start squawking and flying about, she has to grab one with both hands to be able to get the letter on to it’s leg. It’s off in a distressed flurry of black feathers and disgruntled squawking and then Lyanna sets about to find her brother. 

She finds him in the gods wood, perched in the branches of a tree, chewing on a lemon cake and watching the red leaves of the weirwood. The wind is blowing through his hair and he’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice Lyanna approaching until she’s up in the branch next to him. He frowns and sits up. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, straddling the thick branch he’s perched on with both legs and wiping his hands on his breeches. 

“I came to tell you the news.” She smiles, her eyes shining with excitement. “I heard from Rhaegar.”   
“You did?” Ben’s thick eyebrows raise. “What did he say?” 

“He said that he understood I didn’t want to be a second wife, and he couldn’t hold it against me because it’s not an easy position.” She explains. “He also said that there’s never been any love between him and Elia and he’s going to annul their marriage. I-I’ve already answered, asking him to write father to break off the betrothal between me and Robert.” 

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Ben frowns. 

“What do you mean?” Lyanna asks. “You seemed as excited as I was…” 

“Well… Lyanna don’t get me wrong, I am happy for you, but… but if the prince writes for that it’s less of a choice and more of an order.” Ben sighs. “Wouldn’t it just be better to come clean to father yourself and ask him for permission to end the betrothal?” 

“I can’t do that!” Lyanna snaps. “He’ll be furious that I’ve been writing Rhaegar at all and he’ll burn all the letters. I have to get Rhaegar to ask. It’s the only proper way to do it.” 

“I suppose.” Ben chews his lip. “Just be careful Lyanna.” 

“You just don’t understand Ben.” She huffs. “Boys never understand.” 

It was a phrase she’d never thought she’d say, she’d never cared much for romance or marriage. She’d always favored swordplay and riding over anything to do with needle work, even Ben was the only baby she’d ever cared about, and she’d been but eight when their mother died. By then he wasn’t even near a baby, he’d been two, off the breast for a year. And yet at night she found herself wondering what it would be like to have Rhaegar’s children nestled up next to her. One young enough to be at the breast, the other maybe three curled beside her, a soft head of silver curls spread out on the pillow. 

When the next letter for Rhaegar comes it’s come so soon after hers was sent she’s left to wonder whether he’d even read it. She rips open the seal before she’s even able to shut the door from the room. She half slams it as she reads the letter over twice before understanding fully what he’s asking of her. 

_ My Dearest Lyanna,  _

_ It is my understanding that your father may not wish to break off your betrothal to Robert Baratheon. House Baratheon has been a noble and loyal house for many centuries. However I still wish to marry you. And I believe I have a way that no one could say no.  _

_ Run away with me Lyanna. Run away and marry me, that way no one not your father, not Robert Baratheon, and once I’ve annulled my marriage to Elia even the gods cannot deny our marriage.  _

_ I await your answer most eagerly.  _

_ Your Loving Rhaegar  _

It took Lyanna a moment to fully comprehend what he was saying. He wanted her to run away with him? Where would they run away to? Surely they couldn’t - and then it occurred to her, White Harbor. Her father was planning to make a trip to White Harbor with Benjen, to see one of the Manderly daughters may be interested in marrying Ben. It would be a loathsome trip for Ben, especially now knowing what she knew of him. But if she could convince her father to take her along too then she had a chance. 

White Harbor was a sea port, it would be easy for Rhaegar to get there from Kings Landing. A fortnight by boat. That was far more doable then coming up to Winterfell, and much easier for them to make an escape by the sea then by riding through the Neck. The Neck was nothing but a narrow road and lethal swamps. 

_ My Loving Prince _

_ My father has a trip to White Harbor planned, he’s hoping to find a future wife for my little brother, Benjen. If I can convince him to take me along it would provide the best setting for us to make our escape to be together. The trip is in a moons turn, just after my fifteenth name day. If you can get to white Harbor then send word to me and we shall meet and run away to be together. I eagerly await your next letter _

_ Your Promised Lyanna  _

In less than a fortnight she had a response. He’d meet her in White Harbor on the fourth day of their trip and they’d be off to get married. Now the only thing to do was to convince father to take her along. That would be easier said than done. 

She makes her way carefully up the steps to her father’s solar and is let in by the guard at the door. She’d always liked it here, it was warm, earthy smelling and often as not filled with books. Books about everything from the doom of Valyria to the most tedious volumes of Stark family ledgers. Brandon often called it the little library, but father always said that he needed to get better with books. He’s seated at the writing desk next to the window and penning out a letter to someone, likely a bannerman, maybe even the Manderlys. 

“Father?” She says quietly, reaching out and putting a hand carefully on his shoulder. He jumps, almost toppling a bottle of ink onto the letter he’s writing. 

“Lyanna!” He snaps. “You need to announce yourself before coming in. I’ve nearly died of fright.” 

“Sorry father.” She says. “I-I was just wondering, it maybe I might come along, to White Harbor with you and Ben.” 

“You - why would you want to go to White Harbor? We’re just going to see if any of the daughters of the Manderly’s happen to catch Ben’s eye.” Rickard frowns. “You’re supposed to stay here with your brother.” 

“Oh Brandon doesn’t need me.” Lyanna insists, never mind that she knows Ben will be miserable in White Harbor on his own, the least she could do is provide him with some comfort for the time she is there. “Besides, the Manderlys have a daughter of an age with me don’t they?” 

“Well… yes.” Her father admits. 

“And if I’m to be married in a year I may as well get out and see the North while I can, before you ship me off to the Stormlands, and to Robert.” She blinks at him, doing her very best to look like her lady mother, he always had a soft spot for her when she looked like her. “Please father?” 

“Well…” He sighs. “Alright, I suppose you can come along. But please Lyanna behave, none of this running around with swords and acting like a boy you understand?” 

“Yes father.” She grins, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. “Thank you so much!” 

“Oh you know I’ve always been unable to say no to you.” He mutters, pushing her gently away. “Now Lyanna, please I need to finish these letters.” 

She nods, turns and starts off down the stairs, already eager to write her prince. 

Prince Rhaegar signs the letter with a flourish and hands it to Ser Hightower to be taken to the Rookery, well aware of Arthur Dayne standing next to his shoulder. He raises his eyebrows and turns to the man. 

“Do you need something Ser Arthur?” He asks cooly his violet eyes meeting the other man’s deep purple. 

“If I may speak freely your grace?” Arthur asks.

“Oh if you must.” Rhaegar grumbles, he can already tell he’s not going to like it. Ser Arthur Dayne rarely asks to speak freely and when he does Rhaegar rarely likes what he has to say. “Just make it quick, I promised Elia I’d dine with her.” 

“Well,” He clears his throat. “It was my understanding, that you needed three children by a true wife for the prophecy to be fulfilled.” 

“And?” Rhaegar rolls his eyes, leaning back against the desk and putting one foot up on his knee. “Your point is?” 

“If you annul your marriage to Lady Elia, then your children, Rhaenys and Aegon, will no longer be true children.” He says. “And you’d have to have three  _ additional  _ children with the Lady Lyanna for the Prophecy to come to fruition.” 

“Yes.” He nods. “That is the prophecy. However, in the best interest of this prophecy being fulfilled I think it’s best that I do not annul my marriage to Elia.” 

“And the Lady Lyanna?” Arthur asks.

“That will be a non issue.” Rhaegar dismisses with a wave of his hand. “After we are wed and I’ve bedded her she’ll see my reasons. Besides she won’t have much choice really.” 

“And you are going to, kidnap her?” Arthur Dayne asks. 

“Arthur!” He snaps. “I’m surprised at you, no this isn’t a kidnapping. She knows full well I intend to marry her and once she understands the extent of the prophecy she’ll give her consent.” 

“And if she doesn’t?”  
“Don’t worry she will. Now, go, I need to begin dressing for dinner.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Lyanna loves nothing more then riding her horse along the planes of the North. She hears Benjen calling out after her, but she doesn’t care, she keeps riding well ahead of her father’s column. She’d been giddy with excitement to leave, and hardly slept the night before. She hadn’t told anyone of her plans, not even Benjen, as it was vital they remain secret. They’d remain secret just until she and Rhaegar were wed and then, then she could tell everyone. 

“Lyanna!” Benjen half shouts, coming up behind her, panting from driving the horse so hard. “I asked you to wait.” 

“I told you to keep up.” She chuckles, pulling her horse to a stop at the top of the ridge and turning back to look at him. His hair was sticking up in all different directions and she could see knots and tangles forming in it already. “You should cut your hair.” 

“I like it long.” Ben scowls. 

“Then Braid it.” She tugs on her own braid. “Because it looks like an eagle landed in it.” 

“I’m not braiding it, I’m not a girl.” He scowls. “Besides you’ve been avoiding me all day why do you care?” 

“I haven’t been avoiding you.” Lyanna frowns, taken aback by the accusation. “I just - I wanted to ride ahead.” 

“Well you’ve been acting funny since father said he’d let you come along.” He says, turning his horse so he can look back on their father’s column too. “What’s going on with you Lyanna.” 

“ _ Nothing!”  _ She insists exasperatedly tossing her braid back behind her and rolling her eyes. “I promised father if he let me come i’d be a proper lady for a while. So I’ve been trying that for a change.” 

Benjen snorts. “You’re not very good at it.” 

“Oh shut up I didn’t ask you.” She says. 

“Why’d you want to come anyway?” Ben frowns. “You don’t even like the Manderly girls.” 

“Well I don’t  _ know  _ them Ben.” She frowns. 

“Yeah but they’re like, proper ladies. And you’re… you.” Ben chuckles. 

“Well… yeah.” She admits. “But father’s looking for a wife for you and you’ll be miserable. I wasn’t going to let you be miserable on your own.”

Ben looks taken aback for a moment, as though he hadn’t ever considered that Lyanna would do such a thing for him. His wide grey eyes get a little sad then and he wraps the reigns around one hand. She thinks for a moment that he’s going to gallop off in fit of anger and sadness, but he doesn’t. Instead he looks down at the saddle and sighs. 

“I knew there was a catch to this trip.” He whispers. 

Lyanna stares at him, her mouth agape. Had father not told him? Had he really not known? Surely even father wouldn’t do that? “Y-you didn’t know?” Ben shakes his head and sighs. “Oh Benjen, I-I’m sorry I didn’t - well I didn’t know.” 

“It’s not your fault Lyanna.” Ben sighs. “I mean, he’s got a point, it’s not like I can stay unwed forever, though I have considered - well never mind that father would be furious.” 

“Considered what?” Lyanna asks, reaching over to squeeze his arm, trying to let him know he can be honest with her about anything. 

“Th-the wall.” He says sheepishly, he reaches up and tucks a long lock of hair from his face. “I-I’ve considered going into the Nights Watch. I mean - it’s pretty perfect. I never have to marry and-and it’s honorable and a way to serve the realm, but Father…” 

“Father would never go for it?” Lyanna finishes. “I don’t think that’s true, he appreciates the watch as much as anybody. Besides it’s Brandon who’s got to take Winterfell not you.” 

“I know,” Ben sighs. “But I don’t think - I don’t think he’d understand it. He - well it would just give Brandon more fuel for his fire.” 

“What fire?” Lyanna asks, even more confused now. 

“He um, he calls me things.” Benjen chews his lip. “And - and I mean they’re not wrong, but they’re hurtful.” 

“What - what sort of things Ben?” Lyanna asks. 

“Rude terms for - for people who prefer the same sex.” Ben mutters. “I mean - he’s right, I don’t like girls in that way, but it’s hurtful.” 

For the first time in weeks Lyanna feels a pang of regret that she’ll be leaving from White Harbor only a few days after their arrival. “Ben, he shouldn’t say that - and he has no right to say that, the Night's Watch is a very noble, honorable thing. Brandon just thinks all anyone cares about is sex and girls.” 

Ben blushes at that and looks away from her. In hindsight it’s not surprising he gets so uncomfortable any time sex is mentioned but it is funny. “Y-yeah I guess so.” 

“Ben if you want to join the Watch don’t let anyone stop you, even father.” Lyanna says.

“That’s easy for you to say, you never let father stop you from doing anything.” He points out. He’s not wrong, the sword fighting, the riding, the letters to Rhaegar. Her father forbidding it had never stopped Lyanna, but Ben was so… soft. She had no doubt he was tough as nails and would be great in the watch, but he was soft in the sense that he craved approval from his father and their older brother. 

“Well, I guess.” Lyanna shrugs. 

“Have you heard from Rhaegar?” Benjen asks. “I-I know you wrote him but you never told me what happened.” 

“Oh,” Lyanna shifts on her horse. “No I haven’t heard from him.” As much as it hurts her to lie to her little brother, she can’t tell him the truth.

“Ah.” Ben watches her for a long moment, she can tell he doesn’t fully believe her but with any luck he’ll assume it went badly anyway “Well maybe you’ll have a letter when you get back.” 

“Maybe.” Lyanna says, “Come on, father’s getting close.” 

With that she turns her horse and starts down the other side of the ridge line. 

White Harbor is cold. Lyanna is plenty accustomed to the cold from growing up in Winterfell, she was a Stark after all, but White Harbor is a different sort of cold. The moisture blowing off the sea causes the cold to seem to settle in her bones, and as she sits with the three Manderly girls she finds herself drawing close to the fire. The only thing worse than the salty, heavy, cold is how painfully bored she is. 

They’d been at needle work for four long hours. The Manderly girls happily chatting about prospective husbands, the youngest -a girl a little younger then Benjen - was completely smitten with Lyanna’s brother and kept asking about him. Lyanna gave half hearted answers, she was usually only half listening and besides, she knew well enough that Benjen would never marry the girl. 

“Lyanna,” The little girl says. 

“I’m sorry.” Lyanna says, pulling her mind out of her thoughts and looking down at her half hearted needlework. 

“I asked about Benjen.” The little girl says. 

“You’ve been asking about Benjen all day Wylla.” The oldest of the three says, rolling her eyes. She was already wed to some lesser lord - or maybe a knight, Lyanna hadn’t been paying much attention - and her belly was swollen with child. 

“Well. I know.” Wylla blushes. “But I-I love him.” 

“You hardly know him.” The middle girl - Meran? Merell? Something like that - said with a roll of her eyes. This was the one that was of an age with Lyanna. 

“I know.” Wylla says. “But I’m going to marry him. So Lyanna why does he?” 

“Why does he what?” Lyanna asks. “S-sorry I um - I was trying to decide what to do next in the, the work.” 

“Why does he wear his hair so long?” Wylla repeats.

“I don’t know.” Lyanna shrugs. “It wouldn’t be so bad if he brushed it I suppose, but he doesn’t. I think he mostly does it to spite our father. That’s why Ned did it.” 

“Ned?” Wylla asks. 

“My other brother.” She says. “He’s fostering at the Eyrie with Robet Baratheon.” 

“You’re going to marry Robert aren’t you?” Wylla asks. 

“Yes.” Lyanna sighs. “In a years time.” 

“Oh,” Wylla says. “Lyarra has been wed a year now. SHe’s going to have a baby.” 

“I think she can tell Wylla.” The middle girl - is  _ she _ Meryl? - rolls her eyes. 

“I-I could.” Lyanna admits, meeting the eyes of the older girl. “Does it - well is it odd? To have a baby inside you.” 

“I guess.” The girl shrugs, picking up her needlework again. She’s embroidering the edges of the baby blanket with little Mermen on the sides. “I don’t really notice most of the time. I-I have to make water a lot more then I used to, and sometimes he kicks me in the ribs.” 

“Does he?” Lyanna frowns. “That would drive me mad I think.” 

“Oh it’s not so bad.” Lyarra shrugs. “It’s well worth it, you’ll understand after you wed Robert, but as soon as you feel your son quicken in your womb you know you’ll do anything for them.” 

Privately, Lyanna knows that’s not going to happen, but instead all she does is offer a small smile and turn back to her needlework. It won’t be Robert’s babies she’ll love, it will be Rhaegar's. 

Rhaegar Targaryen doesn’t look over his shoulder as he rides out of the Red Keep, but if he had he’d’ve seen Elia Martell and their two children standing on the balcony. As it is, Arthur Dayne is wishing he hadn’t looked, little Rhaeneys is crying and clinging to her mother and Aegon is crying too -though he’s much too young to know why he’s upset. 

Arthur had stood by an watched Rhaegar lie to his wife and he’d said nothing. Rhaegar had assured Elia he was going to White Harbor for a few weeks to see the city and get out of the early spring heat. That had been harder the Arthur had thought it would be, though as Rhaegar said, he was around for protection not to offer his advice. Rhaegar had hardly given Arthur three words other then to tell him he would be accompanying him to White Harbor since Arthur confronted him about the annulment. 

“We’ll have to make for Dorne right away.” Rhaegar is saying to Ser Gerald Hightower, who rides up next to him. “I’ve been sending supplies to the Tower of Joy for a few weeks now but it may not be enough. We’ll need to bring some with us.”

“Your grace,” Arthur frowns, speeding up his horse to walk on the other side of Rhaegar, leaving Ser Oswall Whent to flank them on his own. “We’re going to Dorne?” 

“Yes.” Rhaegar says cooly. “I’m going to take Lyanna there and we’ll lie low until what ever mess her father kicks up blows over. The septan will meet us at the tower of Joy to marry us.” 

“And the annulment?” Arthur asks. 

Rhaegar gives him a sour look. “I told you we’re not going through with that but if you must know the Septan has agreed to tell Lyanna he has annulled the marriage.” 

“But it won’t be true?” 

“Of course not.” Rhaegar rolls his violet eyes. “I’ve promised him good coin if he tells Lyanna that he has annulled the marriage even if he hasn’t. Now as I was saying, the tower of Joy is remote, it could take weeks to get there, unfortunately we’ll have a larger party then I’d like, we’ll need to take a few female servants up with us, they’ll make Lyanna more comfortable and with any luck she’ll be pregnant soon.” 

“Should we take a maester your grace?” Hightower asks. Rhaegar seems to consider the question for a moment and Arthur prays to the seven that he’s not going to do something stupid. 

“No.” Rhaegar says, evidently Arthur Dayne’s pleas to the seven are going unheard. “We’ll get an older woman who’s been through childbirth before and a couple of younger girls. Taking a maester would arouse more suspicion then I’d care to have. We must err on the side of caution and secrecy. Stark and Baratheon are both old, noble houses they won’t take this slight easily.” 

“What do you think they’ll do?” Hightower asks. 

“Have you considered the possibility that they’ll see this as a slight worthy of calling their banners?” Arthur asks. 

Rhaegar scowls at him, a most Targaryen scowl, and says; “You know as well as I do that I called the Tourney at Harrenhal because I know full well we have to overthrow my father. WE have the backing of House Baratheon and House Stark in that. They won’t rise against me knowing I’ll be over throwing my father.” 

Arthur doesn’t say anything but he doesn't think that’s true, Robert Baratheon may have said he’d back Rhaegar against Aerys, but Rhaegar taking the woman he loved was something entirely different. Robert Baratheon is a sixteen year old, hardly more than a boy, and boys are rash, boys act without thinking of the consequences. Not that Arthur could say any of this aloud. 

“Are you sure this is wise your grace?” Arthur says. “Th-the maester I mean.” He says hurriedly. “If you’re planning on her having a child in Dorne you may well want a maester.” 

“Nonsense Arthur.” Rhaegar says. “Lyanna is not Elia, she’s young and healthy. She has good set of hips on her, she’ll be fine. Now I don’t believe I asked for your advice, please hold your tongue.” 

Arthur Dayne falls behind them, and holds his tongue the rest of the way to the harbor, but he can’t help the feeling of dread that has begun to slip in as the boat sales out of the Blackwater and turns north for White Harbor. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a bit of a shorter chapter this week!

Four days after arriving in White Harbor she got the last of the letters from Rhaegar. He’d paid a young girl with a sister who worked in the kitchens to get the letter to her. Lyanna couldn’t get to her room fast enough to open it. 

_ My Dearest Lyanna,  _

_ I am writing this letter in haste so forgive the brief nature of it. There’s an inn at the edge of the harbor called “Full Moon”, me and three of my men have a room here. I think it would be best that you travel under the cover of darkness and travel on the night of the new moon, I know it is tonight and it is short notice but I felt it would be the best way to go about doing things.  _

_ You need not pack anything, just bring yourself i’ve taken the liberty of having some clothing made and it awaits you on our ship.  _

_ You loving Rhaegar.  _

Lyanna is taken aback by the suddenness of it all, but she realizes he’s right, they have to do this quickly and without any preparation on her part. Packing would only add suspicion that Lyanna couldn’t afford. SHe’d had the forethought to pack a simple woollen dress made of a dark grey wool. Usually she wore it when she went out riding but it would do for her escape, and over it she’d wear the dark blue cloak her father had given her as a gift for her fifteenth name day. 

That night she excused herself from dinner early, feigning stomach pains, she dressed in her plain clothes and crawled into bed, pulling the furs up to her chin to avoid being seen by the maids. She lay there, waiting in silence. 

She must’ve fallen asleep because she woke up to pitch darkness and rolled out of bed in a panic, had she missed the meeting? No, no she hadn’t, a quick look out the window confirmed that the midnight guard was still out, they would be out until two am. She had two hours. 

She takes her cloak from the hook by the door and fastens it with the simple brass clasp she’d bought in the market that morning, she tucks the direwolf clasp her father had given her down her bodice. She can’t leave that, even once she marries the dragon she’ll still be a wolf at heart. 

She draws her hood up and slips from her room in silence, going down the servants stair rather then the main stair. Unlike the mainstair the servants stair had but one guard, and he’d fallen into a drunken sleep. The servants stair was much smaller than the main stair and Lyanna had to to her best to squeeze by, and just as she thought she’d made it her knee brushed the guard, jolting him awake. 

“Who are you?” He mutters, rubbing his eyes and reaching for the lamp next to him. 

“J-just a servant.” Lyanna lies. “Emptyin’ the lady Lyanna’s chamber pot.” 

“Well get on with it then.” He says gruffly, leaning back against the wall in his stool, not seeming to notice that her hands were empty and there wasn’t a chamber pot in sight. Lyanna nods wordlessly and hurries off down the dark stairs. 

She finds herself putting one hand to the wall as the light from the guards lamp soon fades, leaving it black as pitch. It’s steep and treacherous and when Lyanna reaches the bottom she lets out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. She slips out the door into a room she doesn’t recognize. There’s a dim fire going and after her eyes adjust she realizes she must be in the kitchens, or near them, she can smell hot bread cooking not far away. 

Doing her best to remain quiet she slips past the kitchens and out into the servants yard. There had to be an exit into the city around here somewhere, it was just a matter of finding it. Unlike Winterfell, in White Harbor the servants were expected to remain completely separate from those they served unless they were working, and the highborn were never permitted in the servants areas. This left Lyanna confused and disoriented as she looked around the yard for a gate. There doesn’t appear to be one, nothing but a solid wall, and the city on the other side of it, but servant weren’t permitted to use the main entrance. 

“There has to be a gate.” She mutters, crossing the yard, being certain to stick to the shadows, and over to the wall. 

Instead of finding the gate as she expected she instead found a heavy wooden door, barred with a thick bar. It took all her effort to raise the bar enough for her to open the door and slip out - and the slam as it falls back into place is loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door. The tunnel through the wall is six feet long and on the other side is a second door. Lyanna opens the second bar and slips through the door. 

This time she finds herself in a small dark alley, and instead of a guard she’s confronted with it’s a man drunkenly leaning against the wall urinating. She wrinkles her nose and hurries past him, but not before he sends a whistle in her direction. 

At first Lyanna isn’t use where she is, and it takes her a good fifteen minutes of wandering to get her bearings, but once she does she’s off. She sticks to the sides of the main streets and ignores the calls of nearby men. Fear almost starts to well up in her as she hurries along towards the harbor. She comes upon a street she didn’t recognize. She blinks and spots a woman on the side of the street.

“You need something honey?” The woman asks. “I assume you’re not here for my services?” 

“I-I um - no.” Lyanna says, flushing as she comes to the realization that the woman is a whore. “I-I’m looking for the Full Moon Inn?” 

“Just down this street hon, can’t miss it.” She insists, waving her along. 

“Thank you.” Lyanna nods, hurrying off down the street towards where the whore had indicated. Sure enough, she couldn’t miss it, it had a wide sign hanging over the door, and the door had painted on it a full moon and a howling wolf beneath it. Lyanna pushes the door open and is greeted by the sight of a crowded inn. She pushes the hood of her cloak down and looks around, she doesn’t see Rhaegar, or anyone obviously Kings Guard. 

“Can I help you?” The Inn keep comes up to her carrying four mugs of ale. 

“I-I’m looking for someone.” Lyanna says.

“Name.” The Innkeep says gruffly, clearly impatient with Lyanna’s hesitancy. 

“Um -” 

“Lyanna,” A voice says across the room. She turns and frowns, the man standing there is dressed plainly, and she doesn’t recognize him but she approaches him nervously. 

“Y-yes?” Lyanna asks. Up close she sees he’s got deep purple eyes an a rich caramel skin. A dornishman, there’s not many of them here in White Harbor.

“The dragon sent me.” He says. “My name is Arthur.” 

“Ser Ar-” 

“Shh shh shh.” He says “Yes, but come with me first. We can’t talk now.” 

She nods, and follows him wordlessly up the stairs, they go up and up and up all the way to the fourth floor which balance precariously over the street, and the room they enter seems to balance even more precariously over the dark street. It sticks out almost half way and as she steps into the room the floor creaks. That’s when she sees him, all silver haired and beautiful. 

“Lyanna!” 


	7. Chapter 7

Lyanna can’t stop herself from rushing across the room and throwing her arms around Rhaegar. He doesn’t waste a beat and wraps his arms around her too, leaning down to give her a gentle kiss, his lips are as soft and warm as she remembered. Pulling away from the kiss she looks up into his beautiful violet eyes, studying them intensely. 

“What?” Rhaegar chuckles, reaching one hand up to brush some loose hair out of her face.

“I-I just - it feels like it might all be a dream.” She whispers. “And that I’m going wake up back in Winterfell and have to marry Robert Baratheon.” 

“Well,” Rhaegar smiles, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You’re not dreaming, and you’re not going to have to wake up and marry Robert Baratheon, or any Baratheon. But unfortunately we must be going, I have a ship waiting in the harbor and it would really be best if we leave as soon as possible.” 

“I- “ Lyanna frowns. “Why? I thought we’d stay here?” 

She’d had visions of wedding Rhaegar here in the sept, it was a small sept, built more for the use of the visiting tradesmen then the people of White Harbor - most of whom kept the Old Gods. She’d hoped they’d be wed immediately and they could spend tonight together.

“I know,” He whispers. “But it’s safest for us if we leave the city and make for Dorne immediately. I’ve got a septan there who will wed us.” 

“Dorne?” Lyanna frowns. “I thought we were just going to Kings Landing.” 

“I know my love.” He says softly, pushing her hair back soothingly. “But Kings Landing is full of spies and my father’s men. We need to get you somewhere safe. Once we are wed I will return and over throw my father, then I can bring you.” 

“Well, okay,” Lyanna nods, she trusted Rhaegar to make sure she was safe, and if he said they needed to go to Dorne then they needed to go to Dorne. 

“Come, we must make haste.” Rhaegar says, giving her one last chaste kiss and moving past her to the door. 

Lyanna pulls the hood of her cloak up again and follows him out, back down the rickety stairs and into the dark of the street. They’re flanked closely by the three knights Rhaegar had brought with them, Ser Arthur Dayne, the sword of the morning, was the only one she recognized immediately. Those deep purple Dornish eyes were impossible to hide, even without the white cloaks of the Kingsguard. The other two hadn’t been introduced to her yet but she knew they must be Kingsguard as well. 

THey walk in silence to the harbor, Lyanna having to move very quickly to keep up with Rhaegar’s long purposeful strides. It takes less then ten minutes before Rhaegar comes to a halt in front of a small ship, clearly built for speed, it can’t have a very large crew or very much room. It makes Lyanna nervous, she’d never much cared for travel by sea anyway, and all she could think of was this ship being dashed against the rocks. 

“Lyanna,” Rhaegar says, holding out his hand. “It’s perfectly safe, I promise you.” 

“I- yes.” Lyanna nods, taking his hand and letting him lead her up the plank to the deck. “Where in Dorne are we going exactly?” 

“A place in the Red Mountains,” Rhaegar explains. “It’s called the Tower of Joy, this boat will take us to Kings Landing, and then from there we’ll ride to Dorne. It’s easiest that way, at least to where we’re going.” 

“The Red Mountains?” Lyanna frowns. “That’s very remote isn’t it.” 

“It is.” Rhaegar nods. “But that’s really for the best, it would take my father’s men weeks to get to us. “ 

“Weeks?!” Lyanna blinks in shock. “Do you really think your father would -would come after us?”

“There’s no saying.” Rhaegar sighs. “My father isn’t called the Mad King for no reason, and I think we’ll need to be careful to keep you safe. But worry not my love, keep you safe I will.” 

Lyanna smiles sweetly at him and stands on tiptoe to kiss him. “THank you my Prince. I suppose I can melt in the Dornish heat if it means a lifetime with you.” 

“Fear not my queen,” Rhaegar says, kissing her hair and smiling. “The Red Mountains are different from the rest of Dorne, they get properly cool, you won’t melt, I wouldn’t allow it.” 

With that Rhaegar takes Lyanna’s hand and leads her below deck. The ship is surprisingly spacious in sleeping quarters. The room he brings her too takes up most of the back of the ship with a wide bed and two large trunks occupying it. Rhaegar kneels in front of one of the trunks and pulls out a light blue shift and holds it out to her. Lyanna looks around a moment but whichever of his men is standing guard seems to have stayed outside. 

“Th-thank you.” She says hesitatingly. She makes no move to put it on though, not in front of Rhaegar, she’ll wait until she is in her own rooms for that. “Who were the other two guards you brought? I recognized Ser Arthur Dayne, but not the other two.” 

“Dayne is hard to miss.” Rhaegar chuckles, moving over to his own trunk and beginning to undress. “The older one is Ser Gerald Hightower and the younger one Ser Oswall Whent.” 

“They’re both Kings Guard?” Lyanna asks. 

“Yes.” Rhaegar says. “They’ll accompany us to the Tower of Joy.” 

“Will they be our only companions there?” Lyanna asks warily. “I thought surely there’d be more. A-a maester perhaps?” 

“No.” Rhaegar says. “There will be a Maester travelling with us when we make for Dorne, we’ll pick him up in Kings Landing, and then a small handful of serving women will join our party when we arrive in Dorne but the Maester wont go all the way to the tower.” 

“Is that quite safe?” Lyanna asks. 

“Do you doubt me Lyanna?” There’s a slight edge to Rhaegar’s tone that almost makes her worry, but it’s very late, he’s surely just tired. 

“N-no.” She says. “I just thought it would be a good idea to have one.” 

“Well he won’t be needed.” He dismisses. “Some of the women we’re taking will be able to handle minor ailments and we’ll have medicines with us anyway. Now are you going to change?” 

“Oh I -” She looks down at the shift in her hand, it’s nearly sheer and light as water. With a flush she realizes this sort of thing is  _ not  _ intended for sleeping in. “I thought I’d change in my own chambers.” 

“Your own chambers?” Rhaegar says. “Well you’ll be sleeping here, with me.” He crosses the room to her and begins to unlace her bodice but she pushes him away.

“Rh-rhaegar.” Lyanna says. “I-I don’t want to. I-I will wait until we are wed to bed you and until then I should very much like to sleep in my own chambers do you understand?” She tries to be firm but her voice shakes, betraying her anxiety. 

“Ah.” Rhaegar says curtly, he doesn’t seem to be angry, just surprised. He steps back from her and nods. “I will go see the Captain about getting you your own cabin.” He gives her a quick kiss on the cheek and hurries from the room. His shirt is off and she can see every muscle as he moves, and for a moment she wonders if she’d made a mistake, they’d be married soon anyway, but before she can change her mind he’s gone.

* * *

Rhaegar really should’ve expected she’d want her own cabin, the Starks and they’re damned Honor rarely ever fathered a bastard or had sex outside of the marriage bed. There’d been exceptions that was true but they were few and far between. 

It had been more then a month since he’d lain with his own wife, and that had been brief and interrupted by one of her coughing fits and they’d had to stop before he reached his release. It was a release he found himself aching for as he thought of Lyanna, all the same he would respect her wishes even though they frustrated him to no end. He had the trunk of things he’d brought for her moved into her cabin and kissed her good night before returning to his own. 

Once the door closed behind him he pulled the last of his clothing off, intending to relieve himself of the tension he’d been nursing since he first saw Lyanna, but instead there was a knock on his door. 

“What?” He spat, sitting up and glowering at Ser Gerald Hightower as he stepped through the door. “Aren’t you to be guarding Lyanna.” 

“Arthur Dayne has taken over that position.” Ser Hightower said. “I came to tell you we’ve left White Harbor.” 

“Yes I can see that.” Rhaegar rolled his eyes. “I can feel the ship moving you know.”   
“Yes your grace I know.” He nods. 

“Have you heard anything from Lord Stark?” Rhaegar asks, running a hand through his silvery hair. “Has he discovered Lyanna’s missing yet.” 

“Not yet sir.” Ser Hightower says. “I doubt that will be discovered until morning and even if it has word hasn’t gotten out of the castle yet. Though I’ve no doubt that by the time we reach Kings Landing word will have spread through all seven Kingdoms.” 

“We’ll have to keep Lyanna on board the ship once we dock.” Rhaegar says. “That shouldn’t be a problem should it? We’ll be docked less then a day.” 

“No Your Grace it shouldn’t.” Ser Hightower confirms. “Though she may not be very happy about that, I don’t believe the sea agrees with her.” 

“Well, she’ll just have to find her sea legs I suppose.” Rhaegar mutters. “Thank you Ser Hightower, you may go.” 

With that Gerald Hightower bows and backs out of the room, closing the door with a soft  _ thunk  _ and Rhaegar lays down to go to sleep. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with this edition of Rhaegar being a sleezebag. 
> 
> Anyway sorry updates took so long, I've been dealing with some shit.

Lyanna found that though the first night was rough and she was sick several times by the second day things had much improved, and by the third she was hardly sick at all. She passed the days on deck with Rhaegar and dining with him in his cabin. He was every bit as sweet as he’d been in his letters, and often spent the afternoons telling her stories of his travels. He’d travelled a lot in his life, mostly to get to get away from his parents who fought frequently and violently. He mostly travelled and played music in various inns and alehouses, and play beautifully he did. In the evenings after dinner he’d play for the entire crew and his guards and Lyanna. A couple of times she’d managed to convince Arthur Dayne to dance with her but the tall knight was clumsy and awkward. 

The day they arrived in Kings Landing Rhaegar had bid her to stay in her cabin, the ship would be leaving that night for Dorne and he insisted it would be safest for her. The night before she’d protested angrily and stormed out of dinner, but when she woke that morning she found herself feeling ill and cramping. Surely enough upon getting out of bed to relieve herself she found blood between her legs. 

“Oh gods.” She mutters, wiping herself as best she can with the rags provided and going over to the turn to look for sanitary clothes. 

“Lyanna?” Rhaegar’s soft voice calls from the other side of the door. 

“U-Um,” She pulls her robe on frantically to cover the bloodstain on the back of her night dress. “C-come in!” The door creaks open behind her and she hears him step in. 

“We’ll be in Kings Landing within the hour.” He says, kneeling to kiss her. 

“Oh,” She says, suddenly distracted for a moment. “Would it be alright if I wrote to my father and brothers?” 

“No.” Rhaegar says curtly. 

“WH-why not?” Lyanna frowns, her steel grey eyes looking over him for a moment. “I-Is something wrong?” 

“No no,” Rhaegar assures. “It’s just, it might not be the safest.” 

“What do you mean?” Lyanna asks. “What about it would be unsafe?” 

“Birds can be intercepted, and then my fathers men could find out where we are and where we’re going.” Rhaegar explains “We don’t need you to be in any danger and we really don’t know what my father could do. I am sorry my love.” He bends to kiss her again.

“It’s fine.” She whispers against his lips. “I just don’t want them to worry too much.” 

“I know,” He pushes some hair out of her face. “Now I must go ashore and fetch some more supplies, but I’ll be back before long and then we’ll be on our way to Dorne, and safety and happiness.” 

“You’ll be safe?” She whispers, leaning her forehead against his. 

“Of course I will my love.” Rhaegar insists. “I’ll go in disguise and I’ll keep my hood up. No one will know it’s me, besides I’ll have Arthur Dayne and Oswell Whent with me the whole time. Now do you need anything from the city?” 

“Oh um,” Lyanna flushes red and looks back at the trunk, she’s been unable to find any sanitary items. “I-I could use some cotton sanitary pads.” 

“Oh.” He raises his eyebrows and looks at the trunk. “Yes I-I should’ve thought to pack those. Very well I’ll get some for you as soon as I can. Will you be alright until I return?” 

“I-I think so.” LYanna nods. “I-It might be a bit messy though.” 

“It’s fine I’m certain.” He says, stroking her cheek. “I am sorry you’ll have to feel so poorly for a while though. I’ll send some tea and food down for you alright?” 

“Thank you.” She whispers, kissing him one more time. “I suppose you have to get ready to go don’t you?” 

“Alas my love I do.” He sighs. “I’ll return with your things and we’ll dine privately tonight yes?” 

“Okay.” She smiles, and with that he stands up and leaves the room, leaving her sitting next to her trunk wearing a bloodied nightgown. 

Lyanna passes the day sitting in bed with steamed cloths over her abdomen. Rhaegar had been kind enough to ensure that Gerald Hightower remain to take care of her - though it wasn’t a task he seemed to enjoy he did all she asked with little complaint. He brought her water and ensured one of the lower ranking boys on the ship brought her plenty of tea and food. All the same, she’s glad when Rhaegar returns with the maester. 

“Rhaegar.” Lyanna smiles, sitting up in bed and holding out her arms for a hug. He provides it to her and smiles at her. 

“Lyanna.” He mutters. “We’ll be setting out in a few minutes, but I thought it would be best for the maester to see you.” 

“You didn’t have to do that.” She sighs, looking over at the old man. “It’s just my moons blood, all I need is you and hopefully the rags you brought?”

“Of course.” He says, reaching for the small package and holding it out to her. 

“Thank you.” She smiles. “C-can I have a moment?” 

“Yes,” The Maester says .”I think that would be a wise idea I need to speak to Prince Rhaegar. I’m glad you are well after all Lady Lyanna.” 

“Of course.” Lyanna nods. “Thank you, really for coming to see me, it’s really very sweet of my prince to worry so for me.” 

“Yes, it is.” The Maester nods to her and leaves the room, Rhaegar gives her another kiss on the cheeks and follows the Maester from the room. 

Lyanna rises from the bed and goes over to the wash bucket, she’d folded up a bit of old underclothing and wedged it between her legs to keep the blood under control but she’d already managed to soak it through. She grimaces and takes one of the wash rags to wipe the matted bloody hair between her legs. The water turns a shocking red before she’s done and she’ knows she’ll have to send it out to be changed again. It’s nice to have the proper sanitary rags to slide into her small clothes. 

After she’d cleaned herself she felt clean and well enough to put on proper clothes for the first time today. She’ll have to send the dirtied nightgown off to be laundered before it stains but she dreads having to do it, doing so would be embarrassing, she was the only woman on the ship but it needed to be done. With a sigh she pokes her head out of the door and asks for Ser Hightower to get the serving boy who’d been tending her most of the day. 

Then she settles herself by the window to watch them pull out of the harbor at Kings Landing, the sun is high and as they pull away a sudden pang of worry sets in. She wished she’d written her brothers and father, even though Rhaegar had forbade it.

The Maester didn’t say a word until Rhaegar’s cabin door had closed behind them. He had to wonder what the Maester wanted him for. He’d only brought him along for this journey because the Maester had to get to Dorne anyway. Now here he was wanting to talk to Rhaegar when all RHaegar wanted was to go sit with his Lyanna. 

“Now what’s this about?” Rhaegar sighs, running a hand over his face. 

“It’s about the young Lady Lyanna.” The Maester says, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robes. “She’s on her moons blood.” 

“Yes I realized that.” Rhaegar rolls his eyes. “What do you need to tell me that for?”

“Well it’s that you intend to marry this woman yes?” The maester says. “And you mentioned hoping to get a child on her soon after the marriage.” 

“As one typically does.” Rhaegar says. “I will need a son from her yes, she’s young and healthy enough.” 

“That’s not it.” The maester says. “I simply felt it would be good to tell you that you ought to wed her as soon as you get to Dorne rather then wait until you get to your final destination.” 

“Why?” 

“Because she’s on her moons blood now, the best time to get a child on her will be two weeks after it comes to an end.” The Maester explains. “A few days after before we arrive in Dorne.” 

“Ah.” Rhaegar says, he’s well aware what this means, it means that he needs to write his septan to meet him in the small Dornish port they’ll be arriving is. He’ll have to come from Sunspear but the journey to their port is a much shorter one. 

He sets immediately to a pen and paper and within an hour he’s got a letter penned. With any luck the gamble of Lyanna being healthy and young will pay off and she’ll get pregnant and carry with ease. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way longer then I thought it would. I've actually had the bulk of this story written since November and am just now writing the last few chapters. It simply came down to depression and gross feelings of inadequacy as to why I didn't post this, but I'll be finishing this and my other unfinished stories as quickly as possible.

As the ship nears Dorne Lyanna finds herself growing hotter and hotter, eventually sleeping atop the blankets on her bed in little more than the thin shift Rhaegar had provided on her first night. She’s beginning to doubt Rhaegar’s insistence that the Red Mountains were cool, even the nights here weren’t cool, what was to make her think that the mountains would be. The ship rolled into the docks late at night and when Lyanna woke up that morning the bright red sand send a fierce glare through the porthole. It almost looked like glass as she stared out at it, her nose pressed to the glass in wonder. 

“You like it?” Rhaegar’s smooth voice says behind her, she turns with a start. 

“I-I’ve never seen anything like it.” She whispers, turning back to the window in awe. “It’s so beautiful, I-I never thought somewhere so acursedly hot could be so beautiful.” 

“It’s beautiful now.” Rhaegar strides over to look out the porthole with her. “I assure you in four days where we’ve started up the mountains but still aren't high enough for it to cool it will be far less beautiful.” 

“Have you been to this place before?” Lyanna asks. 

“To the Tower of Joy?” Rhaegar asks, she nods. “No, but I’ve been to the red mountains, several years before I wed Elia I took a tour of Dorne, a gift from my mother on my name day. It’s very beautiful I’ll give it that, but brutally hot.” 

“And it - it really does get cooler where we’re going?” Lyanna asks. 

“Yes,” Rhaegar assures, slipping an arm around her waist. “Now you ought to get dressed Lyanna, we’re going to wed today.” 

“Really?” Lyanna gasps, turning towards him and smiling. “Really and Truly?” 

“Yes,” Rhaegar smiles. “It just so happens that the Septan who was to wed us at the Tower of Joy ended up being here at the same time as us, so I thought we may well go through and wed now. What do you think?” 

She answers him with a kiss, a soft sweet kiss that lingers on his beautiful lips. “I think I need to get ready for my wedding.” She whispers. “And you should go, because it’s bad luck to see me on my wedding day.” 

“Is it now?” He muses, a sly smile coming over his face. “Well I guess we’ll just have to take that won’t we, because I don’t intend to wait until our wedding to see how beautiful you look. Besides, we'll have to ride to the godswood together.” 

“There’s a godswood here?” Lyanna frowns. “But it’s so… desolate.” 

“Oh my queen,” He smiles. “It may look desolate from there but go up on deck and see the whole town, I assure you it’s a lush beautiful place. The Heart Tree there is a Dornish olive tree, and it’s not a large godswood, but I believe it will do for your gods, and the Septan there for mine.” 

“Oh Rhaegar.” She smiles, kissing him again “I-I - that’s so sweet, I’d given up on marrying in front of my gods, at least until we were able to return to Kings Landing together.” 

“Of course.” Rhaegar mutters, leaning his forehead against hers and cupping her cheek. “I’m glad I can wed you in front of your gods, our marriage will be the union of two great houses and two great gods. It’s important.” 

“You’re very sweet.” She blushes, pushing some hair from her face and turning her eyes down blushing. “I can’t believe I got so lucky.” 

“Oh my Lady Lyanna,” Rhaegar whispers, putting a hand under her chin and guiding her gaze back up. “I am the lucky one. Now I shall leave you to bathe, I’m going to send a servant with hot water and another to wash your hair. I’ll see you in an hour.” 

“In an hour.” Lyanna smiles, kissing him again and pulling away to watch him leave, his long silvery hair flowing behind him. 

Two serving girls Lyanna has never seen before arrive in her rooms one with a large copper tub and another with an arm full of scented oils and soaps. She watches as the younger of the two sets up the tub and goes to fetch water, the older one sets the oils on the nearby table and turns to Lyanna.

“Can I undress you Your Grace?” She asks in a soft voice. 

“Oh I - I can do that myself.” Lyanna says, starting to work at the tie of the thin shift. “I-It’s so hot here I’m mostly undressed anyway.” 

“You are from the north.” The girl says, it’s not a question and Lyanna isn’t sure how to respond, especially as the younger girl brings in the first bucket of water. 

“Y-yes.” She says. “From winterfell. And - and are you from this town?” 

“Yes.” The girl says. “My sister and I both are. My mother will be coming with us to the mountains. We’re to be your servants while you wait.” 

“Oh,” Lyanna syas. “How, how lovely. What’s your name.” 

“Arianne.” The girl says. “My sister is Nymeria and our mother is Antoine.” 

“Antoine,” Lyanna says, watching the younger girl, Nymeria, bring the next bucket of water through. “That’s a boys name isn’t it?” 

“Yes. She’s the youngest of seven girls so her mother named her like a boy.” Arianne explains. “She’s a midwife, she’ll be serving as medical aid once the maester leaves us.” 

“Oh,” Lyanna says. “I-I didn’t know midwives did that sort of thing.” 

“Not all the time, but Dorne is very harsh, my mother learned lots about sickness when she was living in the larger cities.” Arriane says, dropping a few drops of scented oil into the bathtub and turning back to Lyanna. “The bath is ready your Grace.” 

Lyanna lets them scrub her back and her hair with sweet scented soaps and she stands obediently as they dry her, dress her and fix her hair. The dress they bring her is a soft green silk, light as anything she’s ever worn with an ornate snake like embroidered belt. They don’t have a maiden's cloak but she gives them the direwolf cloak pin she’d brought from White Harbor and they pin it over her left breast, right above her heart. 

“Maybe he has a dragon one he can give me after.” Lyanna smiles. 

“Maybe he does your grace.” Nymeria smiles. “And now you are ready to be wed. You look beautiful your grace.” 

“Thank you.” Lyanna smiles. “But please, call my Lyanna, y-your grace feels - well that’s not me. It feels more like Rhaegar. 

“You’re to be Queen your grace.” Nymeria smiles. 

“I know, but please, Lyanna - or if you must Lady Lyanna.” Lyanna smiles. 

“Lady Lyanna.” Nymeria nods. 

“Now we need to go meet Rhaegar don’t we?” She says. 

“We do Your - Lady Lyanna.” Nymeria nods.

Rhaegar is waiting for her on the deck, dressed handsomely in his armor and for once, he’s smiling. He offers her his arm and leads her off the ship to a set of horses waiting for them on the docks. Despite the dress she mounts hers expertly and leans forward to give him a pat. While the voyage south hadn’t been entirely bad once her stomach settled she had missed the feeling of a horse between her legs. At least with a horse she could control where she was going. 

“I’ve missed riding.” Lyanna says with a smile. 

“Well we’ll be riding plenty from here on out.” Rhaegar says smoothly. “Now lets go, I’m eager to make you my wife.” With that he starts off down the street, Lyanna close behind him. 

The godswood in the small Dornish city is very small, just a grove of trees walled in with a creek flowing in at one end through a grate and out through another on the other side. She and Rhaegar were stood on one side of it in front of the Dornish Olive tree with the carved face, a septan in front of them and the Kingsguard to one side. 

Lyanna hardly heard the words the Septan said as he wrapped the ribbon around their arms, the words she repeated flowed from her mouth with an ease she’d never known she had. Her eyes fixed on the lovely purple eyes of her Prince and her groom. His eyes fixed on hers. It wasn’t until he bent to kiss her that she truly felt of this earth. 

“My wife.” Rhaegar whispers, smiling at her. 

“My husband.” Lyanna says. 

“I have this for you.” He whispers, bringing a dragon pin out of his pocket, he replaces the direwolf pin with it and goes to bury the wolf pin underneath the heart tree. Lyanna wants to protest for a moment but she doesn’t, she is no wolf now, now she’s a dragon. 

Rhaegar leads her from the gods wood to a small inn on the edge of town, telling all those except Ser Arthur Dayne to find lodging at an Inn down the street. Lyanna feels a blush creep up her face as she realizes why he’s instructed them to do that. The thought of being alone with him for the first time makes her stomach flutter with nerves. She was glad she’d been able to bathe that morning, she hadn’t been able to since before leaving White Harbor.

“I’m having our trunks brought up for us so we can dress in the morning.” Rhaegar explains. “We’ll have dinner and wine brought up, and I’ll spend all day with you.” 

“Th-that sounds lovely.” Lyanna smiles up at him, suddenly feeling very young. She was a woman grown, all of fifteen and she’d flowered two years ago, she could’ve married then had her father really wanted. Still she felt all of a maid on her wedding day, which was exactly what she was. 

“Good,” He whispers, kissing her gently. “Now, we’re at the top of the stairs, why don’t you go up and I’ll make certain we get our trunks.” 

“Y-yes.” Lyanna says, smiling and starting up the stairs.

She’s somewhat glad for having a moment to herself to gather her nerves. She hadn’t expected to be so afraid of the idea of lying with a man, she was embarrassed to say it but she’d dreamed of it. More then once she’d woken up with an unfamiliar, uncomfortable wetness between her legs. Yet here she was, almost afraid of it. 

She was back on her feet and beginning to work at the laces of her dress when the door opens. Rhaegar enters almost silently, a skill she’s noted he’ honed. 

“Are you ready my queen?” He asks, crossing the room in four long strides to stand in front of her, his hands replacing hers as they work at the laces to her dress. His hands are practiced and steady, where as hers had been shaking. 

“I-I don’t think I’ll ever truly be ready.” She admits. “I-It’s supposed to hurt when your maiden head is broken.” 

“Not if it’s done right.” Rhaegar whispers, easing the sleeves of her dress off her shoulders, revealing her small, but firm breasts resting in her corset beneath it. He leans down and presses a kiss to her lips. “And I intend to do it right. 

She stands there and allows him to undress her, piece by piece. Dress first, then corset, then the last of her small clothes, leaving her naked in front of him. She turns red and lifts her hands to cover her breasts, only then realizing it would leave her sex uncovered, she turns even redder and tries to cover it with one hand and her breasts with the other. Before she can figure out a solution though Rhaegar has taken both her hands and put them at her sides. 

“Let me look at you.” He whispers, stepping back and looking her over. “You’re beautiful Lyanna.”   
“I-I don’t - well Thank you.” she blushes. “Sh-shouldn’t you get undressed?” 

“All in good time.” He says softly, stroking her hair back and kissing her. He guides her gently over to the bed and pushes her down slowly. “Lie back.” He says once she’s seated on the edge of the bed. She does as she’s told, nervous about what’s about to happen to her. 

She feels him kissing along her legs, soft gentle kisses, almost like ghosts breathing on her. It sends a shiver through her and an odd feeling settles between her legs, right where her sex is. The kisses trail higher and higher until she feels his lips against the soft flesh of her mound. She’s taken aback and about to protest when his tongue pushes the folds of her sex apart, it dances over that small nub at the crest of her sex and she’s lost in pleasure in a flash. 

“Rh-rhaegar.” She breaths. “O-oh Rhaegar I-I like that.” She feels him chuckle more then hears it, and it sends a shiver through her body. She can feel herself growing more and more wet by the moment and just as her breathing becomes faster and she begins to feel something coiling within her he stops, and sits back panting. “Wh-what are you - oh don’t stop.” 

Rhaegar chuckles. “My lovely Lyanna, fear not, soon you’ll have me inside you.” 

She sits back on her elbows, watching him undress and squeezing her thighs together, hoping to get some friction again. He undresses quickly and approaches her again, his cock in his hand, it’s long and curved, he runs his hands over it a few times and she spots something shiny at the tip. He then moves both his hands to her and moves her up fully onto the bed, her head resting on the pillows. He kisses her and moves over her, taking one of her legs and hooking it around his waist. She feels his cock at her entrance and before she can blink he’s inside her. 

It’s not entirely painless, there’s still a moment of sharp pain, but it’s gone as quickly as it came, and she feels him thrusting in and out of her slowly at first and then with more speed. She's quickly returning to that feeling of being wound up tighter and tighter. Just when she thinks she can’t take it any longer something changes, a wave of pleasure goes through her and she wraps her arms around Rhaegar. He’s still thrusting into her enthusiastically but after a few more thrusts he stops and lets out a long moan.

“Ly-lyanna.” He moans. “Oh Lyanna.” 

“Rh-rhaegar.” She pants. “Th-that was -well I never expected to like it.” 

He rolls off of her, his cock sliding from her. She feels his seed spilling out onto her thighs and the bed. He pulled the blankets over them, wraps his arms around her and before long they’re both drifting off to sleep. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another little chapter this week. i've made good progress on this story and should be finishing up the writing in the next couple of weeks, though I'll still be posting just one chapter at a time.

The next day Rhaegar wakes her early, the sun is rising through the window as she sits up, yawning and stretching. They hadn’t left their room all of yesterday, having had dinner brought up to them. He’d bedded her twice before the day was done and once he’d woken her in the night, so she sat up that morning bleary eyed and wanting nothing then to go back to sleep again. 

“Must we leave so early?” Lyanna yawns pulling her knees up to her chest and watching Rhaegar get dressed. She pulls her hair over her shoulder and blinks sleepily at him, letting out a small whimper of protest as he pulls his breeches on and his shirt. 

“Sorry love.” He chuckles, coming over to kiss her. “We need to get started before the heat of the day sets in.” 

“Are we nearby?” Lyanna asks, pushing the blankets off and sliding out of bed. She expects to be greeted by a cold stone floor as she would at Winterfell, but the wood is pleasantly warm. It must be the Dornish heat. 

“To the tower of joy or the Red Mountains?” He asks, pulling his shirt on and handing her her small clothes. She takes them but sets them down on the bed. 

“The Red Mountains.” She says, crossing to the water bucket and dipping the sponge into it and mopping the dried seed on her thighs. She blushed as she noted a good deal of it was also tangled in the hair above her sex. They’d been much messier then she thought it would seem, she runs the sponge over that too. 

“What are you doing?” Rhaegar inquires from the other side of the bedroom. “And yes, we’re about a days ride from the base of the mountains.” 

“Cleaning up.” She says with a blush. “I - well your seed is… everywhere.” 

“Ah.” She doesn’t have to turn to look at him to hear he must be blushing. “Forgive me it’s been a long while since… since I’d been able to um, ease myself in that way.” 

“It’s fine.” She says with a small giggle. Hearing the mighty Rhaegar Targaryen blush and fumble his words over having gotten his seed everywhere was sweet. “Mayhaps we’ve made a son.” 

“Mayhaps we have.” He says, a little stiffly, but Lyanna brushes it off. 

She finishes cleaning up and turns to see him tying his boots, she probably should get dressed. She takes her small clothes and pulls them on before lacing the corset as best she can on her own. Rhaegar offers to help but he’s not nearly as good at lacing them up as he is at unlacing them. Eventually they get it on properly enough to where she could ride and she reaches into the trunks the servants had brought from the ship to find her riding clothes. 

She’s shocked to find what Rhaegar had packed for her was nothing like the riding clothes at Winterfell. Instead of a leather Jerkin and riding boots he’d packed what was essentially a dress, albeit somewhat shorter. It was made of a light cotton so it would be cooler than the leather clothes she was accustomed to but she wasn’t even sure she could ride in it. It would offer so little protection from, well anything. 

“Women don’t do much riding in Kings Landing do they?” She says, pulling the dress over her head and tying it with the leather belt. 

“Hm? Oh no.” Rhaegar says. “They don’t, at least not anything but side saddle.” 

“I don’t ride side saddle.” She says simply. 

“Well, I suppose that’s good as we don’t actually have a side saddle for you.” Rhaegar sighs. “Is something wrong with the clothes?”

“Yes” Lyanna admits. “How am I supposed to keep from getting saddle sore? There’s no pants to protect my legs?” 

“I… well i don’t know.” He admits sheepishly. “I - I suppose you could borrow a pair of mine, though you’d look somewhat ridiculous.” 

“I don’t care how I look.” Lyanna says. “I’d like to have skin on my legs when we make camp tonight.” 

As it turned out it didn’t matter what she was wearing, as soon as she swung up onto the horse she grimaced. She was sore between the legs in a way that she’d never been from a horse. Every step makes her grimace as they ride on, sometimes walking, occasionally a trot, but never harder than a canter. It’s much too hot for that. Lyanna had severely underestimated just how hot it could be in Dorne. She felt as if she was Benjen’s kitchen boy standing in front of an open fire all day baking Lemon cakes. Or maybe she was the lemon cake baking in the oven. 

By noon she felt sure she was going to collapse, the sun was beating down and she was soaked in sweat. All she wanted was to peel this god awful dress off and jump into a cold pool of water, or maybe a cool bath. Maybe Rhaegar could even join her - though this suddenly became a less pleasant idea as the pace picked up again and she was made very aware of the ache between her legs. 

It hadn’t hurt last night, then again, last night she wasn’t sure she’d’ve noticed if anything hurt. She’d been far too busy with Rhaegar, who was  _ very  _ good when it came to sex. Not that she’d know otherwise. 

Her mind is turning back to the pain between her legs when she notices Rhaegar has slowed down to ride next to her. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, a frown covering his face, deeper then his usual frown and his violet eyes are filled with concern. 

“Yes.” She insists, not wanting to tell him the reason she’s been riding so slowly. “I-I didn’t realize I was falling behind.” 

“If we need to slow down we can.” Rhaegar insists. “Would you like to stop a while? Do you need to relieve yourself?” 

“No.” She half snaps. “I-I don’t need to stop I’m fine.” But as her mare hops lightly over a rock the grimace on her face is enough to give her away.

“Halt!” Rhaegar calls, pulling his horse to a stop and dismounting to help Lyanna off hers. “You’re not okay, something’s wrong. Bring her some water!” He shouts over his shoulder to no one in particular. One of the female servants they’d acquired in the town scurries over with a skin of water and holds it out to Lyanna. 

“Rhaegar, really,” Lyanna says, taking the skin gratefully and taking a drink. “I’m not - it’s - it’s nothing you can fix.” 

“Well, what is it?” He frowns. “Y-you just had your moons blood.” 

She turns very red and pulls him to the side of the road, out of ear shot from any onlookers. “I-It hurts.” 

“What hurts?” he frowns in confusion. “I-I know my pants are a bit large for you but you said they’d protect you from saddle sore.” 

“It’s not that.” She says quickly. “I-it’s my um, my…” she drops her voice to a whisper “ _ lady’s parts.”  _ She feels herself turning red and she takes another drink out of the water skin. “I-It’s just, sore from last night.” 

“I-I didn’t know that could happen.” Rhaegar admits. “Elia never - well she doesn’t ride much either. Horseback likely isn’t helping.” 

“It’s not.” Lyanna mutters. 

“I’m sorry Lyanna.” He whispers, bending to kiss her. “I never meant to hurt you, I-I was more vigorous then I should’ve been last night.” 

“You were wonderful.” She whispers back. “I don’t regret any of it.” She stands on tiptoe to give him a kiss. “I’ll be fine, I’m tougher then I look.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” He chuckles. “Are you ready to get going again?” 

“Yes.” She nods, walking back over to her horse and handing the water skin to the serving girl. She swings back up into the saddle and has to force herself not to grimace. She looks at Rhaegar, who’s tentatively mounted his own horse. “Let’s go then.”

Rhaegar gives Arthur Dayne a nod and the column starts moving again, a thin band of travelers around a steadily sloping road. The Red Mountains of Dorne span the entire horizon in front of them, jutting up into the sky like red hot daggers fresh from the forge. She looks around, there’s nothing but mountains and the steadily rising lands around them as far as she can see. Since they’d ridden out from the little port town she hadn’t seen one other traveler, not a single building, and she wasn’t even sure this was a road. For the first time it occurs to her just how remote this place is. 

As the day wears on they only seem to grow more and more isolated, and Lyanna grows more and more nervous. By the time they’re ready to make camp they’ve entered the foothills of the Red Mountains and as night falls the air begins to cool. Lyanna relishes the cool breeze that blows through camp as she watches the Servants and the Knights set up their tent. Yet as the sun sets and the dark drapes over them like a blanket, the wide open dark sky sends a shiver through her. 

“Are you cold Lyanna?” Rhaegar asks, holding out a cloak for her to take. 

“N-no.” She says, shaking her head. “It’s just - this place is so… remote.” 

“That’s the idea.” He says with a small smile. “Remote and hard to get to, that way my father can’t find you.” 

“B-but what if we need help?” Lyanna asks. “We don’t have a maester, we just have a midwife.” 

“I know,” Rhaegary says dismissively. “We won’t need a maester, believe me this will all blow over soon enough and we’ll be able to return to Kings Landing. We’ll be at the Tower of Joy for two, maybe three months.” 

“You’re sure?” She asks, biting her lip. 

“Would I ever lie to you?” Rhaegar asks, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her lovingly. 

“No.” She says. “You wouldn’t. I’m just scared is all.” 

“Well,” Rhaegar whispers. “You have no reason to be scared. You do have reason to be tired, and you look it.” 

“I am tired.” She admits. “I-i didn’t sleep much last night, and the ride today was hard, and long.” 

“I know.” Rhaegar says. “You’re a very good rider.” 

“I was on a horse before I could walk.” Lyanna explains. “But the Dornish terrain is so different from what we have in the north, it’s harder to find my stride.” 

“Well you’ll get there I’m sure.” He whispers. “Would you accompany me to our bed?” 

“Oh Rhaegar,” She says sheepishly. “I-I don’t think I’m up for - for” 

She doesn’t have to say it, he puts a finger to her lips and says. “It’s fine, I don’t want to bed you this night, truth be told I’m very tired and sore myself. I would however like to wrap my beautiful wife up in my arms and fall asleep next to her. What do you say to that?” 

“I say that sounds lovely.” She smiles, kissing him again.

He leads her to their tent, which has been set up in the center of camp. It’s not very big but it doesn’t have to be, the mattress in the center of the floor is soft and Lyanna doesn’t even bother with night clothes. She peels off her dirty clothes from the day and crawls on top of the bed naked. It’s much too hot to bother with the blankets. 

Rhaegar takes longer to undress, and unlike her he carefully places each article of clothing on his chest to one side of the bed. He turns to look at her when he’s done undressing and chuckles. 

“You warm love?” 

“Far too warm.” She mutters. 

“Unfortunately you’re only going to get warmer.” He says, taking a hint from her and laying atop the blankets nude, wrapping his arms around Lyanna. 

“I don’t think I mind this sort of warm.” Lyanna mutters, kissing him and resting her head on his chest. Before she even remembers it she’s fallen off to sleep, safe and comfortable in the arms of her dragon prince. 


End file.
